Foreword:
“I was thinking one evening about my life in the army as a musician and decided it would be nice to write about it so that my granddaughters would know what their granddad did with a large part of  his working life certainly the most exciting and enjoyable part of my working life. Once I had started writing the memories came flooding back from the time I stepped on the train as a naïve 16 year old to go to Fort George to start my army training. I stayed with them for seven years visiting several countries during that time. I bought myself out but decided after a year that civvies life wasn’t for me so I re-enlisted but this time with The Band of the Irish Guards and as you will see when you read my book I had a most interesting life with them, touring places I never dreamed of visiting, playing at shows on television, radio, or in newspapers. I was in the army for 25 years and enjoyed it, in fact I loved my life as an army musician and am thankful that I made the decision to join up all those years ago. I hope my granddaughters enjoy reading about my army life as much as I enjoyed living it and have now had a great time reminiscing about it, remembering all the people I have met. Quite a few have since died but there are still several I keep in touch with”.

HERE IS MY STORY:

I was playing football with my pals one summers evening when my father called me to come over. He was holding this long black tube with silvery keys and he told me I was now in Kinneil band and this strange looking thing was a clarinet. I was baffled looking at this clarinet as I had never seen anything like it before. Even being told I was now in the local band was a huge surprise. This had never ever entered my mind playing in a band. Music was never my thing except listening to it on the radio and here was I on the fringe of becoming a musician you could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather.

I hadn’t a clue what to do with this weird shaped thing but was sent for lessons to a deaf old man called  auld  treacle who lived in an area called the Snab rows. These were what they called miners houses and old and deaf as he was he soon had me sorted out. How to hold it, right hand on the bottom joint, left hand on the top joint and fingers on the correct holes and keys and the mouthpiece of course in the mouth. He explained how to use all these bits and pieces. How to blow it not too hard and not too slobbery then after a while it all came together. The importance of learning scales and the value of musical notes, crotchets, quavers, etc and time values like march tempos, waltz tempos, the list seemed endless but I got the head down and was soon playing my first tune, an old song called “Wont you buy my pretty flowers,” not exactly hit parade stuff but at least I was on the starting line.

Eventually I became a fully fledged member of Kinneil Military band but I still went for lessons. We rehearsed on Thursday evenings from seven thirty till nine o’clock and Sundays from two thirty till six o’clock and these rehearsals were always well attended. I started off playing third clarinet. This is the easiest stand to play on as it consists of playing mainly single notes on and off the beat. We called them UM CHUGGS. The next stage of the ladder is second clarinet then repiano clarinet and finally the big time solo clarinet. You had to be good to sit on this stand, it entailed playing the melodious stuff also playing solos. This was my greatest ambition to be a soloist and to be able to play like our solo clarinettist, Alec Fleming.
He was my hero, better than Roy Rogers and Gene Autry. Alec could play the cadenza (solo) from La Traviata which was a fairly difficult passage and he played it perfectly, the other couldn’t do that.

I used to sit in the band room and have a go at the classical music but it looked like a mass of notes and was a bit difficult for my limited ability but I kept at it and did improve. Sometime later on I started playing the E Flat clarinet which is a smaller instrument but you got to play the melodies. I also liked playing on the march at local gala days and various other functions. Our uniform was Maroon jackets with K M B, (Kinneil Military Band) on the pocket in gold braid and dark trousers and we looked quite smart. When the band was on the march the bang of the bass drum then the sound of the band starting up with marches like Morag’s Fairy Glen or Jeannie’s Black Eye used to make my hair stand on end. Great stuff!! These two marches were favourites of the Bo’ness people. We really played very well at the Bo’ness Fair and the Linlithgow Marches. These were two very big jobs on our calendar and the whole band always looked forward to doing them. You always seemed to meet up with old friends that you hadn’t seen for ages. People returned to their local towns to see these parades. Of course we didn’t have the Bo’ness fair during the war years. A gala day was held instead and the festivities were held in a park near the bowling club and the wee pit. An old coal mine of which there are many in Bo’ness. We had the usual races three legged, sack race and wheel barrow race. It was all good fun and the winners got a few pennies which were gratefully accepted. A few pennies could buy a fair amount of your favourite sweeties then in those days.

Non locals sometimes refer to our Fair day as a gala day and these people came from up the road, Linlithgow, the Bo’ness people don’t like the fair being called a gala day. There has always been friendly banter between the two towns and this was more apparent when the two junior football teams Linlithgow Rose and Bo’ness United met up. Sometimes the banter was less than friendly then. We often played these football matches and while we were entertaining the crowd four locals would go round with a blanket and the crown threw money into it in aid of band funds. Sometimes we found beer bottle tops in the collection and if they had thrown the bottles as well we could have taken them to the local pubs and got a few pence for them and added that to the collection. After all my appearances in these parades I was beginning to feel like a bandsman and I was really enjoying it all very much.

The first concert I played in was on the band stand in the Glebe Park in Bo’ness. This was new to me playing through a programme without stopping to correct mistakes. I thought this show wouldn’t last long as we didn’t seem to have many music scores but it look longer than I imagined and after the interval it seemed no time at all till we played our final number. This was an overture called Zampa and I had an important part to play in this piece and I recall I was told off for over blowing but I wanted the audience to hear me, particularly my pals who were there. This was my first claim to fame and I was sure the folk would be talking about me in the Castleloan store, the local co-op. The next concert venue was the Newtown football park and I was warned about over blowing. I confess I did try to make myself heard and that was our one and only concert at the football park. There were gala days and wee fairs out with Bo’ness which we also played at. These were good wee jobs. After our stint, we were well fed lots of sausage rolls, cakes and lemonade. The men in the band often went to the pub for a thirst quencher and the next part was always the best we got paid a fee of half a crown the equivalent of 25p in today’s money. We used to rattle the coins in our pockets to let our pals know we had cash. In those days our entertainment was the Saturday matinee at the local picture houses. There were two in the town then, the Star and the Hippodrome. There was always a serial on and finished up with a cliff hanger like the baddies leaving the goodies in a drastic situation so of course we had to go back the next week to see what was happening.

The wireless or radio as it is now called played  a big part in our lives. Our favourite programmes were Dick Barton, Paul Temple, Henry Hall’s music night and scary one, Valentine Dial, as the man in black. We listened to a new radio programme called Radio Luxembourg and it played all the latest hit songs like Buttons and Bows, if I were a Blackbird, Shot Gun Boogie, and Donald Peers singing in a Shady Nook by a Babbling Brook, these were the tunes that got your pulses racing. I bought the piano scores for these  and sat for ages memorising them.

This was a new insight into music for me and I then began to listen to the big dance bands of these days and tried to play along with them. My father told me off for playing by ear and to stick to playing from music but I continued playing with the bands when he went for a pint. A lot of the older members of the Band talked a lot about the great army bands playing on the radio on a programme called Workers Playtime so I tuned in and was gob smacked. The sound they produced was out of this world so I tried to play with them. The I thought I could join the army and become a part of one of these wonderful bands, this became a dream for me, and it was something I had to do.

A short time later at our local snooker hall the caretaker was telling me he had been down in London and had heard an army band playing on the Embankment Gardens near the river Thames and they were part of a Scottish Regiment, The Seaforth Highlanders and he described what they had played and how good they sounded and I was hooked. I asked my father if I could join the army as a bandsman and he said  “well, if that’s what you want to do, then go ahead”. My mother was not at all happy about me joining the army, but I convinced her it would help make me a better clarinet player, so she relented and agreed with my dad that I should try it. Next thing I had to do was contact Dean Park House, Edinburgh, and sign on as a band boy for eight years with the colour and four years on the reserve list but my eight years wouldn’t start till I was eighteen. I had my medical and passed but I’ll never forget that morning in the medical room. The other people there who were either enlisting or being conscripted were looking at this wee lad joining up. One bloke asked if I was right in the head. I said I was and that I was joining the band. “Well that’s OK” he said, “it’s supposed to be a great life”.

The day my papers arrived I was sort of taken aback, this was it, there was no going back. I was sent travel documents and had to report to Fort George in Inverness. The date was May 19th 1953, a day I won’t forget. I was joining the band of the Seaforth Highlanders. The morning of my departure my mother was through the scullery (Kitchen) crying, so were my wee sisters, I didn’t feel too great and was wondering if I was doing the right thing. Time came for me to get into the car with my dad and head for Waverly Station. I was really choked up but I now had to get on with it. My father gave me a ten bob note (5Op) then he said cheerio, and that was me on my way.

The train journey was a revelation to me as I had never seen so many grand sights in my life and I was dumb struck. Eventually I arrived at Inverness, it was dark, cold and pouring, and I was starving. I asked for directions to the bus station and got on a bus to Fort George. The conductress said “what’s a poor wee soul like you joining up for, will you no miss your mammy and daddy”? I could hardly answer her for my heart was in my mouth. We arrived at the Fort and I went into a little wooden hut and this man with stripes on his arms roared at me to get my bloody hands out of my pocket. “Ah want ma mammy”. I gave him my papers and was taken up to a barrack room with three other boys in it, and after getting my bedding sorted out, I was taken down to the cookhouse for a scoff as they called it and had my first taste of army food. It was quite good but, of course, I was once again starving.

Next morning I had to go to the company office and it was all explained to me, rules regulation, uniforms, which to salute and who to call sir, my head was birling. Outside I could hear men screaming their heads off shouting left right, left right swing your arms, stand still. The company clerk told me it was the men being drilled and I would be starting it next day. My next call was the Quarter Master's stores to get my kit, piles of the stuff, and eventually I made it back to the barrack room and got everything stowed away in my locker. It had to be in neat piles and in proper order. After having done all this it was time to go down to the N.A.A.F.I where we spent most of our time and most of our army pay.

The following morning we were introduced to the fine art of drill. The drill instructor was very conscious of our age and apparent fear, so he treated us fairly gently to start with. After an hour or so he was happy with our progress so he let us go up to the NAAFI for our tea and sausage rolls. The drills went on for a few days and we began to enjoy it. Mind you, I found I had sore muscles where I didn’t even know I had muscles. The next phase in our military life was our turnout. Brightly polished boots , well pressed uniform and hair cut that was right to the bone, this was referred to as personal pride. At the end of three weeks we all looked neat and tidy and took a pride in our appearance. Later  on, I was posted to Redford barracks in Edinburgh to join the band and that made me feel great but, at the same time, apprehensive. I was on my way to fulfilling my ambition playing with an army band. I arrived at Redford Barracks by way of a shoofly (wobbly) tram and on arrival, reported to the guard room. I showed the sergeant on duty my documents and he detailed one of the men to take me to the band block. I was taken in to meet the bandmaster, quite a stern looking man, called Mr Brunsden. We had to call him “Sir” and woe betides you if you didn’t. He said “Welcome  to the band laddie” and his next words nearly had me jumping with joy. He asked if I would like to go home and let my family see me in my kilt and did I have enough money to go? I said I would love to, so he gave me half a crown and said I could pay him back the next week.

I got on the bus at St Andrew’s Square Edinburgh feeling great and looking forward to my surprise visit. I arrived at Castle loan mid morning and my sister Janice saw me and let out a roar, not like our Janice I might add, "Mammy it’s our White in a kilt". Nearly the whole of Castle loan turned out to see White Buchanan in his army rig-out. My full name is William White Buchanan, but I got stuck with being called White, and when I am introduced to a stranger I call myself Bill or Billy. The family were delighted to see me back home and the first thing they asked was “when do you go back”? That was a question I was asked many times during my army career.

Eventually I returned to barracks loaded down with home made cakes, apple tarts and sweets. I and the other two band boys, Wally and Taffy, had a good feed that night. Next day I was handed this beautiful clarinet that is the only way I can describe it. At home I had played a simple system clarinet and now I was given a Bohem system clarinet. The difference being there were more keys on the Bohem and it was easier to play, although it took  a day to get used to it. Then it happened I was told to sit in with the band, I was terrified, but I settled into it and loved it. All the different types of music and playing every day and every evening we had to do young hands practice for an hour.

This was when I really began to get a better insight into music as my knowledge up until then had been very limited. Two corporals, Alec Hume and Colin Harper, were in charge of the band boys. Alec who was the solo clarinet player in the band taught me the benefit of doing long notes, blowing softly and gradually getting louder. We were told that this improved the muscles at the side of the mouth which in turn led to a good smooth tone and also helped you hold a note longer without the lip quivering. We had to go through all the scales again and were also taught minor as well as major scales. Tone quality they told us was the essence of good playing. If the musicians had a good tone, then obviously the band sounded better.                         

A few days later the battalion held a drill parade and the band were required to play the marches for it. I was only on third clarinet at that time but I didn’t mind too much as I had to concentrate on marching and keeping in a straight line. It was quite a lot to get used to but once again it fell into place after doing it many times. I used to wonder and still do why pipe bands can play all day without music while we in the band read off March cards. The food at Redford barracks was very good and that was where I had my first tast of curry. I recall it was always a Wednesday when I could smell this food so I asked one of my mates what it was, I hadn’t asked before as I didn’t want to appear clueless, so he told me it was called curry and
I’ve been hooked ever since.

If the band were free at weekends we could do as we wished and I normally went home in my kilt. A couple of times I went to the dancing at Kinneil Institute and I certainly looked different. All the lads had Tony Curtis hair cuts and D A’s, drainpipes and drapes and here was me, head shaved to the wood, a battle dress top and kilt and I still didn’t get ladies choice.

My musical ability improved quite a lot and I was promoted to second clarinet, here we go I thought, I’m on the way up. The battalion were stationed in Germany at a place called  Buxtehude of course I had never heard of it but as we were due to go out there very soon we were sent on embarkation leave. This was my first official spell of leave so I packed my kit and headed for Bo’ness for 14 days and I was no sooner home when I was asked, when do you go back?

The leave soon passed and I was back in barracks packing up. It was a big job, musical instruments, music stands, musical scores, the list seemed endless. Eventually it all fell into line. Now there was Germany to look forward to my first trip abroad. The farewell at home was as I had expected, lots of tears and even more advice on what to and what not to do. The strangest bit of advice I got was, watch those Germans now you don’t know what they’re like. Well I soon found out. They were O.K. We boarded the train at Edinburgh and set off for Harwich, this is where the troop ship sailed from for The Hook of Holland. I didn’t like the ship at all, the sea was rough and there were soldiers being sick all over the place, the deck stank to high heaven.

Next morning we disembarked with black ringed eyes and pale faces, some of the blokes, including myself, had a slight stagger, this was without drink. I didn’t like my first experience of the sea. This time all our kit was handled by the dockyard staff so it gave me a chance to look at this foreign land. The language was so strange, as were the dockside signs and the harsh smell of Dutch cigars and cigarettes. Well here I was in a strange and foreign land and would soon be travelling to another one. We picked up our hand baggage and headed for the troop train which was transporting us to Germany.

This was really my first time on a big passenger train and I was well impressed. We got settled into our allotted compartments and were told our meal time and warned to be there on time which we were because as usual we were all starving. The dining car was out of this world, pure white table cloths, shiny cutlery, candles and wine glasses, not quite what we were used to in the cookhouse and the food was wonderful. After the meal we went to the buffet car and there were piles of sweets and chocolates of all descriptions, so we had our share. You could buy cartons of cigarettes at a shilling (5p) for twenty. We, as band boys, weren’t supposed to smoke but we took a chance anyway and we were never caught.

I can’t remember how long it took us to get into Germany but we were all glad to be there. It had been a long journey and here I was at last in Germany. The army referred to it as B.A.O.R. The date was 13th October 1953. We got off the train at Hamburg and for the first time I saw a policeman with  a gun, he also had a big Alsatian dog. It was like being on the set of a war film I felt a wee bit edgy, a wee lad in a strange and foreign land. A short time later three army trucks arrived to take us on to the barracks, no more soft seats now like the train, we sat on wooden benches and that was it. My first sight of the barracks will always stay with me. It was a big building with an arched gateway and an armed kilted soldier on sentry duty marching up and down. We soon got sorted out with barrack rooms and got our bedding laid out and the next thing was a trip to the cookhouse for a scoff. The army never spoke about having a meal it was always a scoff.

Next morning we had some time off to get to know our surroundings and I liked the look of it all. The cookhouse was near to our barrack rooms as was the cinema and the dreaded barbers. I will never ever forget those haircuts, I thought they were short back home, but these were something I could never have imagined. They weren’t just into the wood, they were into the brain!! The R.S.M demanded that you had your hair cut at least once a week. His name was Tait and for some reason we called him granny Tait. I never did discover why.

He was very strict but like everything else, we got used to it. The band soon got into its own routine. Band practice started after muster parade which was always eight o’clock. We rehearsed until 10 o’clock and had half an hour NAAFI break then on till 12 o’clock when we had an hour for dinner.

The evening meal was at 4.30 and that was your lot. If you were hungry at night, and we invariably were, you went to the NAAFI for the usual egg and chips.The band boys could go up to the cookhouse for the morning break and also for supper. What you got wasn't too great but if you were broke it filled a hole.

Every evening the boys had to do young hands pratice for an hour and this was when I began to hone the bit of musical talent I had. A couple of weeks later we had our first concert. There was a swimming pool outside the camp which was popular with the local German families and they kept asking us to play a tune called “Standchen” again and again which of course we did. Building bridges as the band master called it.

Winter arrived and it was a cracker, we called it a nut cracker. It was freezing, and one morning the RSM decided to hold a drill parade and we were told to play some good Scottish marches. We were all dressed in kilts and started playing but within a few minutes the valves on the cornets and basses froze also the slides on the trombones. The RSM roared at us for stopping and when he was told the reason he didn’t believe the bandmaster so he was shown these instruments and he suggested that we blow on them. He was told that would be useless as the instruments would not thaw out. He called for one of the company sergeant majors to march us down to the sports ground and give the band a good firm drilling.

We were marched off at a really fast pace and of course with the frozen snow we were slipping and falling all over the place. This Sgt Major had a wee twist in his neck and he was called the engine driver. He was roaring and shouting at us to “dig your bloody heels in and you’ll no fall”. Then he went down like a brick and slid down this embankment, at least a 40foot gradiant, when he stopped he pulled his kilt down to spare his blushes. His backside was covered in snow and twigs some of which had scratched him. He looked up at us, blue with the cold and red with anger, and said “Don’t even snigger if you do your life will be hell”, It was very hard to keep a straight face however we managed it.

When we eventually got off parade everyone to a man was standing at the radiators with his kilt up as we were frozen but we soon thawed out, had a cup of N.A.A.F.I tea, a fag, then on into band practice. We never called it rehearsal that was too posh, we were Seaforth Highlanders so it was band practice

Corporal Hume was in charge of the boys and he really was a brilliant player. He probably could have played with any of the top orchestras. The other corporal, Colin Harper, was a brass player, he played cornet. So Alec was my teacher and instructor. He really taught me so much especially how to play classical music in the way it was meant to be played. He still insisted on long notes, no over blowing, he told me to play softly, when practising you must always remember this he told me. The bandmaster sent for me one day and told me that the bad was going over to London soon to play at the Embankment gardens near the river Thames for a week and the following week we were going to Eastbourne to play on the seafront bandstand. I couldn’t believe this as the Embankment gardens was one of the places I had heard about which had made me want to become an army bandsman.

We were booked into the Union Jack club for the week and I felt a bit nervous about the prospects of appearing on a bandstand in London. The musical side didn’t worry me, it was just the thought of me playing to a big audience. The time came for us to go on stage and I must confess to being a wee bit petrified. I walked out to the bandstand and sat down and looked at the audience, my heart was thumping, stage fright I think you could call it. When all the band were on stage the bandmaster walked on and we had to stand to attention, he acknowledged the applause then motioned us to sit down, he gave us a wee smile then brought the baton down and we started our first item. This is always a march, a Scottish one of course. The longer the programme went on the more settled I felt and I was really enjoying it, the sun was shining, the crowd were enjoying the music, and I was part of it all. I was well chuffed and looked forward to the rest of the tour.

London I found to be big, noisy and very expensive and they had a funny accent and for the first time in my life I was called “Jock”. The following week we were to Eastbourne and I was put into lodgings with a really nice middle aged couple, they were probably only in their thirties but I was a wee boy then. Eastbourne was a really nice quiet place with mainly retired people. The regulars at our concerts used to bring sandwiches, lemonade and sweets down to the bandstand after the show and treated us really nicely. I met my first girl friend there but I can’t recall her name. Her parents took us to the pictures a couple of times and the first night we were on our own she kissed me on the cheek and said I was a very nice Scottish boy. Which was true of course, I blushed, I really did? She was going to write to me in Germany but never did. Oh dear, loves lost dream. We finished the trip and returned to Germany.

I then started to pick up the language mostly the basics, thank you, good night, good bye and how much is that. I liked the guttural sound of the language and was soon doing not too badly. I was listening to an orchestral programme on the radio one night and heard a clarinet soloist play a concerto. This was pure magic so I asked where I could buy the music for it and discovered it was in the band library.

It was Mozart’s clarinet concerto a fairly easy one to play but it required a lot of study to complement the slow moving passages this is when the long note practice and soft blowing came into its own. The next concerto I heard was by Weber but I had to send for that one to London. This one had a lot more movement in it but just like the other one it took a lot of practice to even partially play it correctly. Help was available as Alec was always there to lend a much needed helping hand. He is still playing now and also has a number of pupils. His ability has earned him a few letters after his name and he certainly deserves it all.

The band got a job in Berlin playing at a special dinner in the garrison officer’s mess. These were jobs where you sat in all your finery and there were times when we weren’t even seen by the dining officers as we sat round corners and behind closed doors all part of the job I suppose. We played soft music nothing loud so that the officers were not disturbed while dining. When we finished we usually got a drink and a sandwich or two. Afterwards we returned to the barracks and got the head down and one night the sirens sounded and every one had to parade on the square. Apparently there was a stand off  at checkpoint Charlie between the American and the Russian tanks. It appeared serious and we were told to be prepared to stand to as we were going to be issued with weapons, I must confess to being a wee bit concerned. Later on we were stood down as things had been sorted out amicably between the two factions. A bit of relief was felt by all.

Shortly afterwards we returned to our own barracks the band master told us he was retiring. Some people in the band were fairly pleased to see him leave but, speak as you find, I wasn’t too chuffed, as he always treated me fairly. The day he left the battalion was lined up to see him off and he was visibly crying. He had after all served for nearly 30 years. The new bandmaster arrived in due course. His name was Mr Henderson and after he had settled in he had a meeting with us and told us he was a great believer in lots of sport and said he would ensure that the band got its fair share and true to his word we played more football and hockey.

That game hockey nearly destroyed my face, I had never played it before so a couple of the old hands in the band showed me the ropes but didn’t tell me about the dangers. I opted to play in goal when big Ronnie Maconachie charged at me in goal and hit me smack on the nose with a really vicious swing, he weighed all of 13 stones while I was about 8 stone. The blood poured down my face so I was taken to the medical centre and from there was sent to the military hospital in Hamburg. The only real damage was my nose bone which was chipped but my poor wee face was black and blue. Later on in life my nose did cause some problems and I had to have surgery to rectify the problem. When I recovered I played again but not in goal and began to like it.

My musical ability had really improved and I was now one stage off sitting on the solo clarinet stand. This was because of the help and guidance I had received from Corporal Hume. He told me the bandmaster wanted to see me about being posted to the army school of music Knellar Hall near Twickenham for a course which would last for a year. I was over the moon, I had heard so much about this place and now I was going there. It was soon time to get the kit packed for my posting to the Hall and I was looking forward to it. The journey was fairly uneventful and I duly arrived at the gates of KH. I looked up at the place and felt well, its hard to describe, let’s just say Magic. I was shown where to go for induction and after all the questions I was asked what sport I took part in and before I could answer the student bandmaster asked if I could play in goal at hockey, I said “no way” but I did offer to play in goal at football so I was D. companie's goalkeeper and my first game I let 10 goals in. End of my football career. Knellar Hall wasn’t purely for improving the musical capabilities of the ordinary bandsmen, it was also where the bandsmen who had the potential to become bandmasters were trained. The bandmasters’ course lasted three years and was an extremely in depth programme and it took a lot of know how to pass this test and become a bandmaster. I was more than happy to remain a bandsman and play the clarinet. There were a lot of bandsmen from all the different regiments on these courses, we had four including myself from the Seaforth Highlands and the other regiments had a similar amount. It was good to meet these men from the different mobs as we called them and compare notes on life in other regiments.

The real tuition now began. We each had a professor of our particular instrument and we went to see him at least twice a week. When we first went to him he told us to choose a particular piece of music and play it so that he could judge our capability. This was also a revelation in music, I had thought Corporal Hume was good but this was something new. He seemed to extract your potential and improve your ability. Most afternoons the whole contingent went to the large music hall and had massed band rehearsal. It was an enormous band as all the students took part and I must say it was an incredible feeling playing with such a large group.

The emphasis was purely on music, no drill parades or short haircuts or muster parade inspections. There was of course still army discipline but nothing compared to our various regiments. Re haircuts, there was a barbers shop in Hounslow and the proprietor, Mr Leonard Poutney, tried to change the army style haircuts and make them more modern, he asked for some volunteers to become models. Naturally I was one of the volunteers, we had to wait until our hair grew a bit longer and then we went up to his studio as he called it, and got the works. He used all his implements instead of only the electric razor, and finished it off with a shampoo and blow-dry. If he had it, we got it, and an hour later we saw ourselves in the mirror and were flabbergasted, we were like film stars. WOW, WE LOVED WHAT WE SAW. A photographer took our photos and they were published in the army magazine, The Soldier, we waited for ages to see if we had become famous, but nothing happened.

This hairdresser had hoped to create an army hairdressing unit, but once again it didn’t happen, never mind it maybe someday; after all it was only 1953 when we had our moment of fame. We had high hopes of our pictures appearing on roadside bill boards advertising army hair cuts but there is still time and one never knows!!! In the summer months there were massed band concerts on the huge bandstand in the school grounds and these were always very well attended. The rehearsals for these concerts were always a great pleasure because the programmes we played were musical gems. Through discussions with blokes from other regiments we discovered that the stuff we played at Knellar Hall was rarely used in our own bands but it was a nice change playing something different. We were all taken aback by a piece of fantastic news, our next concert was to be televised. Television was quite new in those days so this was something different.

I wrote home (no phones in those days) and told the family about our coming concert but very few people had televisions then. It was 1954 and I think the only person in the family who saw the programme was my grandmother who happened to be on  holiday at Butlins at the time and of course they had a T.V. It was a fantastic show with an outstanding programme and it concluded with the 1812 overture, the noise of the fireworks portraying the battle and gunfire had everyone on their feet clapping and cheering. The course was drawing to a close and we were preparing to return to our units it was a sad time for us leaving our new found mates, but that’s life. We were now headed for another posting. The regiment was stationed in Egypt and we were on our way. We were supposed to be going up to Fort George to report for embarkation but we decided to drop off at our respective homes before reporting to the Fort. When we eventually got there the bollocking we got was a roaster, I can’t recall the excuse we gave, it was all flannel anyway but I’m sure it prevented us from being shot at dawn! Our kit was packed and ready once again so we headed off to an RAF camp in England for the flight to Egypt, the date was 23 November 1955.

The flight was pretty rough compared to present day troop transportation. It was cold bumpy and a couple of us felt sick and it seemed an eternity before we were told we would soon be landing in North Africa at a place called El Adam. It was very hot and we were wearing thick battle dress uniforms. We had to wait until the plane refuelled so we found the every faithful NAAFI, and we had a few cold drinks. Once the refuelling was complete we took off again for an R.A.F. campt in Egypt. First thing we saw was miles of sand and somebody said  “SOME SIZE OF A BEACH THIS”. We got off the plane and headed for the documentation area and when we were through with that we had to board trucks. We were surprised to see armed escorts on the Lorries but as this was an active duty country it was normal procedure. We were heading for Falaise Camp which was to be our home for the next year or so.

On the way we passed a dirty looking canal with camels pulling these Arab barges and we were told that this was the Sweet Water Canal and if you fell into it you would be on a course of antibiotics for weeks. I don’t know if that was true or not because I nevery heard of any getting near enough to it to fall in. Mind you I wouldn’t have been surprised if that had been the case because the Egyptians used it as their toilet and we often saw dead animals such as dogs and cows and once even a camel floating in it. One sight I well recall was seeing the dhows being pulled upstream by a camel we saw some strange sights along it’s banks in the coming months, some made you really laugh. We duly arrived at the camp unloaded and were allocated our barrack rooms.

I was fairly lucky as I was billeted in the bottom half of the band room with Rinty and Bernard, they were two Salvation Army lads and were very helpful to me. I met up with Rinty recently when we were on holiday in Inverness, also Sam Wilkie who has since died. There were a number of new faces in the band now but it didn’t take long to get to know one another. We arrived in winter time so our routine was pretty normal. First there was muster parade, then area cleaning, this entailed going around the band block picking up matches, fag ends and any other bits and pieces, then band practice. I was still playing the E flat clarinet but was soon put back on the B flat clarinet and then on to solo clarinet which was what I had always wanted. Practice was as normal but we had to get used to the money. The proper name was Piasters but now the army called them Ackers. The uniform for that time of year was B.D (battle dress) shirt sleeves boots and gaiters.

The summer wear was K.D’s (khaki drill) boots and puttees and these were sent weekly to the dhobi in other words, the laundry, and they came back as stiff as a board. The dhobi Walla’s starched them and they did this by filling their mouths with watered down starch and blowing a fine spray of starch on to the shorts and shirts and then pressing them. When we got into summer uniform with the shorts, boots and putties I felt like one of the film stars who appeared in the old black and white war films and said things like “well done chaps, jolly good show”. The heavily starched uniforms caused great difficulty when you tried to put the shorts or shirts on as the arms of the shirts and legs of the shorts were stuck together. When we did a special parade we wore white jackets and these were thicker than Khaki Drills and were even harder to get on. The other problem was our buttons, these of course were brass and they were not attached to the white jacket so we had to polish them up with our necessary friend BRASSO. When they were polished they had to be pushed through small holes down the front of the tunic and held on with small split rings which were a bit uncomfortable. With the white tunic having to be kept spotless trying to get the buttons attached without leaving black marks led to some fancy language.

We eventually got round it with the help of some strange inventions but in the end we all managed to get on parade well presented. When I think of it now we really did look very smart with the polished brogues, white spats, diced hose and Mackenzie tartan kilt and plaid and of course by then nice brown face colourful to say the least.After teatime we got our kit cleaned up for the following day then some of us had a blow maybe doing duets trios or quartets. These were nights well spent as we had to play with regard to the others in the group over or under blowing would waste the pieces we were playing. This helped improve our own skills and it was enjoyable.

Some of the older band members used to come into the band room at night and play jazz. I had a try at it on clarinet and found it hard to get into a first but gradually I found I had a knack for it and I joined in with them.  I must have impressed big Tam because he asked me where I had learned to play like that. I told him I must have got the knowledge from somewhere, he shook his head and said I was good; now that was a compliment from big Tam as he NEVER complimented anyone. I decided that if I learned to play the saxophone I might be asked to play with the dance band so I did learn to play and eventually became a member of the dance band. We used to practice a couple of afternoons a week instead of the usual military music and we also got together at nights. I was good fun and it was a new string to my bow. There wasn’t a great deal to do at nights although we did have a cinema which was operated by one of the band members but it broke down at least half a dozen times during each film. There was also the beer bar but only a few of the band used it. The cinema eventually got the heave so it was back to playing. I obtained the music for another clarinet concerto, not classical but a modern jazzy type by a brilliant clarinet player called Artie Shaw. This was really difficult to master so I had a record of it sent out from home and that helped me get to grips with it. Sometimes we would go down to the garrison which was called Tel El Kabir, it had quite a lot of things to do and see. There was a proper cinema, a huge NAAFI and a swimming pool. The swimming pool was very popular because nurses, female RAF and Army personnel and also women from the married quarters used it. Naturally there were loads of would be Romeos there and the patter was great. The only problem was the military police were really hard on you given the slightest chance. They seemed to take delight in putting you on a charge for the least thing. At six o’clock at night you were supposed to roll your sleeves down to stop the mosquitoes biting and if they caught you only minutes after six o’clock with the sleeves still up, you were charged with being improperly dressed. The mosquitoes were a menace so we had to use nets at night. They really made you sweat as the air couldn’t circulate properly and our sheets were always soaked in the morning. Getting a drink of cold water was a problem too as the water pipes were situated outside the washhouse and in the full glare of the sun so we bought water chatties. These were clay pots and we filled them up and put them in the shade and the water seeped through the porous pots and cooled the water inside. Sometimes the cold water was too hot to wash in and we often had to stand the basin under the veranda to cool off. Other times we’d go for a drink from our chatties (we all had our own) and they would be empty because someone had sneaked up and drank the lot so we had to fill them up again and wait a few hours before we could have a cold drink. I must confess I did the same thing when I was on guard duties.

We were told that a big parade was coming off in Moasca. It was to be a massed bands parade based on Trooping the Colour which is held on Horse Guards Parade in London every year. We had all heard of this very famous parade and were looking forward to doing it even though we realised it would take a great deal of rehearsal to even get close to the standard set by the Brigade of Guards. One of the drill movements on the parade was called the Spin wheel which was quite a complex manoeuvre. One half of the band would mark time and the other half would about turn and march slowly forward and create a spin. The Director of Music of the Irish Guards, Band Major Jaeger, and a drill sergeant, came out to Egypt to show us how to do it and we eventually managed it. The parade on the whole went very well and the director laid the beer on in the NAAFI for us which was very much appreciated.

There were a number of married quarters in our camp and when the women went shopping to the garrison, they had to go with an armed escort. I did this duty once and it was quite funny what happened (I’m sure the women found it funny too). When we were spotted by the local males they all lined up at the edge of the sweet water canal and lifted up their long robes and showed off their possessions!! The band members had to take their turn on guard duty. We went on parade at seven o’clock in the evening for inspection, then were marched down to the guard room to go on guard and were given our times to do our stag. A stag was the length of time you spent on patrol; the routines was two hours on and four off. When we went out to patrol the perimeter we had a full magazine of ten rounds and a fixed bayonet. If we saw any intruders we were to call "halt" twice then "STANNA" then "halt or I fire". There were very few shots fired when we were there but at night you could see the tracer bullets in the darkness coming from the garrison. We got off guard duty early in the morning and had to go up to the band billets and get ready for muster parade, area cleaning and then band practice. This was really tiring as we had practically no sleep at all.

One of the recollections I have is seeing the toilet wagon coming round to empty the toilet buckets, this usually happened when we were on our way to breakfast. (Toilet wagon is the posh name for it!!!). The Egyptians lifted the buckets on to their shoulders and had to walk about fifty yards past us in the breakfast queue to the wagon to empty them. As the buckets were always pretty full there was usually quite a bit of spillage and we discovered that was why they had long bib things hanging down their backs. The smell was overpowering and some of the blokes shot off rapidly with their cheeks bulging.

Another memory concerning the cookhouse was when we were given tins of M and V which was meat and vegetables, this was our dinner and we had to cook it ourselves so off we trooped back to the billets where big Mac came out of the washhouse with the zinc basin which we used for washing ourselves and our socks etc and it had a coating all round the inside of it. Big Mac who said he was the cook emptied 16 tins of our m and v into this basin and stuck it on the fire, it bubbled up and smelt pretty good, so we scoffed the lot. It tasted alright and it fairly cleaned the basins, they were like new again.

The toilets mentioned above were the only brick buildings for that purpose as the rest were deep trench latrines DTL’S as we called them. The place for a number 1 was called a desert rose, it consisted  of three sheets of corrugated iron around a large funnel. In summer time we took our tops off and just wore shorts with the Mackenzie tartan belt and boots and puttees. The routine then was different, we had a very early reveille, had a cup of tea, then did our normal daily duties and finished at twelve o’clock for the day. We spent a lot of time up on the wash house roof trying to get a tan because someone had got “PUCKER GEN” that we were going back to Scotland for a big royal parade at Inverness and Elgin. It never happened.

I really liked life in Egypt, soon we got what was called local leave and we spent it at Lake Timsah, it was great as we got tea in bed every morning and the food was very good. We used to go to Port Said for the day and of course the local Arab’s always tried to sell us all sorts of weird stuff. Five of us went for a walk into Port Said and found this music shop which had all the instruments we could play, so we asked if we could have a go and the man said “OK”. It was magic, we were belting out The Saints, Bye Bye Blackbird and other tunes of the day and a big crowd gathered, so we carried on playing until the police came. They listened for a while then asked us to stop in case we caused a riot. They must have thought we were pop stars.

We often went up to Port Said and Port Fued to do small parades and concerts and on route we travelled along the Suez Canal and it was a wonderful sight particularly if there were ships sailing up. I recall we had a couple of smokers, these were a sort of get together with a buffet and of course a few beers. These functions brought the band together as we all had different mates and we did most things with each other. At the end of these nights we were all friendly and told each other how good we were on our particular instruments. At least that was better than falling out. There was very little friction in the band in fact I can hardly recall anyone having a row.

Another thing comes to mind, this happened in the cookhouse. There was always a soldier standing just inside the cookhouse door handing out bread butter and jam if you wanted it. There was a choice of greengage or strawberry jam and he had only one spoon. He said to me “Do you want green jam or red jam” and I said “I would like strawberry jam” so he put the green covered spoon in his mouth and licked the jam off, then scooped up a spoonful of red jam and offered it to me. I wasn’t too chuffed. Strangely enough he couldn’t see what my problem was. One day in the cookhouse I met up with a bloke from Bo’ness, he lived not too far away from me. His name was Lex Wardlaw and it was good to see a well known face.

There was some trouble brewing in Aden and the battalion was put on stand by. They eventually went out there but not for long and I recall one soldier was injured. Time wore on and our tour of Egypt was coming to an end so we started packing all our gear ready for our new posting. We were off to Gibraltar. We embarked at Port Said on to the troopship Asturias. The ship was really excellent, no mosquito nets, warm water, and real toilets and the food was out of this world. Food does get mentioned a lot in this tale but it was an integral part of our life, if the food was bad, and often army food was terrible, you had to spend most of your pay in the NAAFI on egg and chips, eventually it did change for the better and it was a remarkable change and would have put some hotels to shame. We docked early in the morning at Gibraltar.

Then the unloading started. We eventually got the band kit unloaded and headed for our new home. We were posted to Casemates barracks which were situated at the bottom of the main street so we had a great view from our new barracks, the other half  of the battalion were put into Moorish Castle which was situated quite far up the rock. Then came a surprise, the barracks were infested with bugs and in the morning the bed sheets had small blood blobs on them and we had bite marks on our legs which itched like hell. We had to put our mattresses outside on the balcony and were told this would kill the bugs but we never saw any dead ones. They got everywhere, in the folds of our kilts, our sporrans and plaids. There was no fresh water on tap so we had to wash in salt water and were issued with salt water soap, it left you feeling sticky and we had to fill a water container every nights with drinking water for the barrack room’s use. The cookhouse was another surprise, it was infested with cockroaches and they liked army food, and we often found them on our plates mixed in with our meals, they particularly liked curry. Big Mac used to mix the whole lot together and eat it. He is no longer on this planet.

There was quite a lot of entertainment in Gibraltar. There were bars with various artists and lots of cafes. There was a Salvation Army café called the Red Shield and it was fairly cheap so it was well patronised, the Salvation Army also ran a local leave centre and it was well appreciated when we got local leave. Big Mac often came back at night well under the weather but no one said anything to him, Rinty and Bernard frowned, as they were members of the Salvation Army but that was as far as it went, We applied for passports because we were on the border of Spain and La Linea was just a few hundred yards away. It only cost a pound for four visas so we went over as often as we could. We cashed in a pound sterling for pesetas and this pound lasted all day, enough for food and beer.

A couple of a time we went over to see the bullfights and that was enough for me as it was too cruel to watch. We had a fair sized band and store room and this had a  piano which sermed many purposes some of which were playing classical compositions to accompany reed or brass instruments it was something new but really it was mainly used in the dance band.
There wasn’t much scope for concert work in Gibraltar but a couple of times we played on a square half way up the main street and once we played in the naval officers mess which was quite a change for us.

We got a surprise job in Portugal at the Embassy and our transport was motor torpedo boats, it was all right when we sailed out but when we were at sea the speed was really boosted and that was hellish. The boat took off like a stallion and that lasted for the duration of  the trip. The stern seemed to rise right out of the water then crash back down even a few of the sailors were sick. Sleeping arrangements weren’t too good and some of us slept on the floor. We eventually arrived at Lisbon and had a walk down town, we were told to wear our kilts not knowing the trouble it would cause. These people had never seen kilts and we were mobbed, some laughing at us, some looking up our kilts, so we beat a retreat into a bar and that was just as bad but they did come over with plenty of bottles of the local brew, so we forgave them.

Another time we went to Oporto on another concert and that was a trip I won’t forget, the scenery was out of this world and I vowed that I would go back there one day for a holiday. I haven’t managed it yet though. We used to swim a plot at a place called Sandy Bay in Gibraltar it was quite a nice wee spot and we fished there as well. One day I recall I went down to Sandy Bay by myself and found a small cave which no one had noticed and I was fishing there when this great big fin came through the water towards me, I panicked as I thought it was a shark and I wondered how was I going to get back to the beach but it eventually it swam off. Maybe it was a dolphin, I don’t know, but I told the blokes in the band it was a great big shark.

The American navy used to dock at Gibraltar and that was when the prices in the shops rocketed. At night the bars were mobbed and they couldn’t half drink and then they fought with each other and that was when the American shore patrol waded into them with big batons. They used to batter them pretty hard too then they were carted off to what they called the Brig. One night they came ashore with a rock band and they were out of this world, I had never heard or seen anything like it in my life. This was when Elvis Presley was the star of the day and of course the music was a revelation, ROCK AND ROLL  was here and it’s still around. A couple of times the American marines drill squad paraded on our square and gave us a drill demonstration.

I must confess it was brilliant to watch. They twirled their rifles around tossing them to each other and made an arch with twirling bayonets and marched through it. All the soldiers were on the balcony watching them and a couple of times one of the Yanks dropped a rifle and the Jocks cheered like hell, it was really put down to envy I would bet my last penny on it. I met a couple of them one night in a bar and I found them really nice blokes, they were keen to know all about Scotland. One of the soldiers took all his highland gear down to their ship and sold it to the yanks, apparently they were arguing about who was getting to buy it, eventually it was returned and the daft lad was locked up in the guardhouse for a spell. We did the changing of the guard ceremony at the governor’s palace a couple of times at the top end of the main street. Maybe it wasn’t quite as spectacular as the one at Buckingham Palace but the locals enjoyed it.

One time Monty Montgomery visited the Rock and we were told he was going to inspect us at the changing of the guard, so we had a long “bulling” session as we were told he was very strict on turn out. He was quite a stern looking gentleman but he spoke to a few of the band members who seemed to theink he was alright. Our next dignitary was the Duke of Edinburgh. He dined at the officer’s mess while we played on the landing outside and it was a scorcher but it was nice to see him. A strange mist , called the Levant, used to envelop the rock, it made the atmosphere sticky and coldish but fortunately it didn’t happen often.

There was a cinema down near the naval base called obviously the Naval Cinema and it was there that we saw a film with Bill Hailey and his Comets. It was that magic music again, Rock and Roll. When we returned to the band room we got our instruments out and tried to play his theme tune, Rock Around the Clock, but we couldn’t get the proper rhythm nevertheless we acquired a fair audience. Later we sent for the music and managed better but our shorn hair didn’t quite create the image needed. There was a big alert when Colonel Nasser closed down the Suez Canal and we were all put on stand by but we didn’t go anywhere and we were a bit let down. Later on Gibraltar got fairly busy with conscripted troops, rumours as usual were rife but eventually it was sorted out and we returned to normal. A couple of lads in the band got married to local girls and we were all  invited to the wedding and a good time was had by all.

One morning when we were on muster parade I started feeling pretty rough, my head was aching and buzzing like a train going through my brain and I nearly collapsed so I was sent to the medical room and was told to bed down for the day. The blokes in the room didn’t give me much sympathy as they thought I was skiving but later on in the day I developed really bad pains. They were shooting through my body and I was trembling all over so someone sent for the M.O. who wasn’t too chuffed as he was “dining”, however he examined me and sent for an ambulance to take me to the military hospital. I can’t remember too much about my arrival but I do remember getting a needle in my spine and it was very painful, they were checking me for polio as it seems there had been a suspect case on the troopship so they were giving me a lumber puncture. Later on the real action started, a strong buzzing in my ears and severe pain in all my joints I’ve never experienced pain like that in all my life then I started shivering and, at the same time, pouring with sweat and it was then they decided I had malaria.

I spent a couple of weeks in hospital and during that time I had quite a number of attacks and when I did get discharged I was white faced and had black rings around my eyes and clapped in cheeks so there was I the only white faced person in Gibraltar. The next priority was to get out in the sun and get brown again. Of course in these days there was nothing known about violet rays and skin cancer, maybe the ozone layer hadn’t been invented then!!! It was now August 1957 and we were getting to the end of our stay in Gibraltar and were heading back to Germany to a place called Munster but before that we had disembarkation leave. Six weeks of home cooking and no drill parades and getting to grow some hair. I used to be jealous of my mates when I came home, they still had those magic hair styles and there was me cut to the bone. I remember my cousin Tam lending me a Teddy Boy suit to wear to the dancing, it looked great but I didn’t have the hair to suit the outfit, nevertheless I wore it to the dancing and was laughed at but I ignored it and enjoyed myself while still wishing I had more hair. The leave ended much too quickly and soon I was back on a troopship headed for Germany.

By now I was solo clarinet player, Alec Reid, who had held the position had left the army and I had been promoted to full corporal so the future was looking quite bright. There was a big parade coming off, it was the presentation of new colours to the regiment. Colours are the flags of the regiment adorned with the battle honours won with distinction on foreign battlefields and are the regimental treasures. The parade was held on the barrack square and quite a lot of old Seaforths turned up for the parade, one of whom was our old bandmaster, Mr Brunsden, of course by then a lot of the band he knew had left so there weren’t too many he recognised. In Gibraltar our band lost one or two men so bandsmen who were surplus to other Scottish regiments were seconded to us.

We were about to lose more people as the national service lads and others who had signed on for an extra year were coming to the end of their service so the band in fact was losing quite a few experienced players and these people were hard to replace in those days. One of our very top players was about to leave the band to go to Knellar Hall to come a bandmaster, Colin Harper, and as I said he had also been in charge of us as band boys and certainly was a guiding light in many ways. He was very strict but had things done his way which usually proved to be the right way. Colin became bandmaster to the Gordon Highlands band and later went to Australia and became a Colonel Director of Music to the Australian army band.After that he formed an orchestra which is now very high on the musical status list. He had a wonderful knowledge of music and is now gaining world wide recognition and we are in contact again after a gap of nearly forty years and the reunion has been wonderful.

Life in Munster took the normal course, drill parades, which we played for, concerts in different parts of Germany and, on one occasion we had a slot on the British Forces Broadcasting Service. This entailed us playing some typical Scottish music and someone in their wisdom decided that the band should form a choir and the chosen song               was TOMMY WENT A FISHING. Thankfully I was booted out of the choir as my voice was likened to a rat pi****g on a tin roof so I sat back and enjoyed the spectacle of these big dour red faced Scotsmen singing about a wee English lad catching fish. The blokes in the regiment were doubled up with laughter as most of them were patroms of the beer bar and enjoyed a drink with the bandsmen, talk about a big red face! The next part of the broadcast was our newly formed jazz band and we played a number called The Onions. I had a solo part to play and it went down very well.

We had quite a big band room and we made quite a lot of use of it at night for recreational purposes. One of the lads bought a tape recorder which was completely new to us but we made good use of it. We organised wind and brass sections and rehearsed some numbers then taped them. It was a good experience for us playing music and listening to it, so we spent quite a lot of time at nights recording. I was the only one on the solo clarinet stand now and I really enjoyed it. We had a Knellar Hall inspection coming up and this was something to be concerned about as personnel from KH came to listen to the band. There was a compulsory piece of music, scales and finally music chosen at random from the band music library.

In one of the chosen pieces I had a cadenza to play and it was very intimidating with all these adjudicators sitting there but thankfully it all went well and we were given a fairly good report.

That night we went up to the corporals mess and had a few beers to help ease the built up tension. When we went out of barracks for the evening we had to report to the guardroom and book out and you had to book in before midnight. This was usually alright but some of the blokes wanted to stay out later and they, me too once or twice, would climb over the back gate and go to a bar called the black hole. The only problem was you needed German Marks to spend in the bar and we were paid in B.A.F.V.S this was paper money and in the old currency values pennies, threepennies, sixpenny etc. so if you thought you might need Marks for the weekend you had to change the money at the Pay Office.

I remember one lad in the band, Ronnie Massie, who had received his first stripe and was now a lance corporal, had the usual celebration drink in the mess then decided to carry on the great occasion,went over the back gate and was caught by one of the regimental policemen, he was charged with breaking out of barracks. He was marched in front of the Company Commander who could have demoted him but gave him severe reprimand and told him he was now a Lance Corporal and had to set standards for the men to follow. This could have been the shortest on record. The band had lost more good players and also it lost some of the sparkle it once had, so my mind was turning towards buying myself out of the army and starting afresh in Civvie Street. After a lot of thought I decided to leave the army and bought myself out.

After a month or so I was back home and staying once again with my mother and father. The first priority was to get a job, which I did. It was in the local foundry and I got a labouring job and it was really hard work but I got stuck in and my body adapted to it so I settled down but I must confess I was missing the army life. My mother now had a chip shop and one night when I was standing outside of it a bloke approached me and asked if I would like to play in his dance band at the Bathgate Palais, I jumped at the chance to get playing again. It was four nights a week and it was £7 for the four nights but you had to pay him £1 for transport. It was  OK to start with but I was starting work in the foundry at 5.30 in the morning till 4.30, then home for a meal and a wee sleep before getting ready for the band and, of course, it was quite late in finishing. We had a short interval and the owner played records so the people could dance. I had noticed this very nice looking girl called Catherine while I was playing and asked her for a dance and soon after we became boy and girl friends.

I was now becoming more disenchanted with civilian life, it seemed to be all hard graft and little reward at the end of the day so I told Catherine I was going to rejoin the army and asked if she would come with me as my wife, she agreed, so we were duly married and Catherine didn’t change her name as she too was a Buchanan. I had applied for the Band of the Irish Guards after hearing them on the radio and I had already heard a lot about them and of course meeting their Director of Music in Egypt convinced me to ask for an audition. I was successful and was accepted and moved to London where the band was based. I had to live in barracks until I could find accommodation for us both which I did before long and our first home was in Crystal Palace.

 
IRISH GUARDS BAND 1963

Here we were two fairly young people starting out on married life not knowing each others way of life and it was quite a challenge getting used to marriage and trying to fit into a new band. It was a huge change for me as there were more than fifty men in the band and they were all first class players, you had to be to get accepted and I was thankful I was good enough. This was Cathie’s first move away from home and it was quite a brave thing to pack up and move to London, leaving behind her family and close friends, to live with someone she had only known for a short time and take on the responsibilities of married life.

Cathie, as I now call her, got a job in an office in the city which meant a daily commute to and from Westminster. Something else which was new for previously she had worked near home. Nevertheless we both settled down to our new jobs and marriage. I could hardly believe the difference between my new band and the old one. For a start we were not required to wear unifom unless we were on parade and we were MUSICIANS not BANDSMEN. Everyone married or single was expected to find accommodation outside of the barracks and most did. There weren’t any quarters for married musicians so we had to find what they called a hiring usually amongst civilians. The hiring was a self contained flat or house and before you moved in a very comprehensive inventory was made of all the contents and the condition of the furniture and decorations window every mark or blemish was noted and when you moved out the condition of the contents etc was checked against the inventory and any damages had to be paid for. People who were not careful could end up paying quite a substantial bill. We, during the course of our army service, lived in three different homes and we were never charged a penny, so it paid you to look after your hiring.

We went in for rehearsals at ten am, had a NAAFI  break at 10.30 and finished at mid-day, this looked like it was going to be a tough life but, of course, it wasn’t all as easy as that. Getting kitted out once more with a very new type of uniform was awe inspiring. There was the bearskin, the red tunic, the dark blue trousers and the boots that required burning and boning. The burning was to get the oil out of the boots. This was achieved by spreading boot polish on very thickly and setting fire to it. The boots then had to be boned to smooth out the dimples then the spit and polish began. We really didn’t use spit just water, it didn’t take long for old soldiers to get the required shine but rookies took much longer to get the mirror finish, just proving the old saying practise makes perfect. The bearskin had to be brushed flat in front and to a point at the rear. The kerb chain was a series of brass rings attached to a narrow leather strap and was hooked on to the bearskin and once all the bits and pieces were put on it all looked rather splendid, a big change from the kilt, sporran, diced hose and spats I was used to wearing.

Times most certainly were going to be vastly different to my previous army life. My first rehearsal came along and I was introduced to the band and a short history about me was read out. Then the band started to play with the Director of Music conducting and I was in a musical heaven playing in such a brilliant band. A short time after joining I was told that I was to be in the concert band, this meant playing at all the jobs, as we called them. We were like a football team, not everyone could play at the same time, so there was a number two band but, to be a member of even the second band, was something.

Everyone in the band could have graced some of the top bands in the country and we all had a chance to play in the lst band. The first concert I took part in was in Liverpool and it really went very well and afterwards we travelled back to London overnight because we were on guard mount next morning. My god playing for the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace was something I had never dreamt I would be part of. There were a lot of clarinettists in the band and sometimes it was difficult to read the music during rehearsals being so close together so I asked our Director if I could change to the saxophone and he agreed, so I went on to play the tenor saxaphone, sitting next to big Sid, he was from Kirkintilloch, and we hit it off very well. He was a corporal and I had no stripes but rank in a Guard’s band wasn’t the same as my previous band as no one ever pulled rank, the need never arose. In all my 17 years there in the Guards I saw only two people being charged, and these charges had to be administered.

Sitting now on the sax stand was better than I expected, I had the opportunity to strut my stuff as a sax player and fairly soon I got my first gig with the dance band and this was one big eye opener for me. Sid was some player in the dance band, I hadn’t realised he had played with a lot of big bands in London but I wasn’t surprised when I was told about him. We used to do a turn in cabaret shows in some of the big London hotels, this entailed doing a little march around the room then forming a circle and playing light modern music. Sid would do Begin the Beguine and jazz it up, he was a great jazz player and I had great admiration and fondness for Sid and we remained close friends till he sadly died from a heart attack.

We took part in a T.V. spectacular called The Big Parade and played concert music not marches and made a big impact with some of the tunes in vogue at that time such as Seventy Six Trombones. We often played for army reunions in the Albert Hall mostly for regiments who were in the last war and we also played the backing music for some of the stars who took part in these concerts such as Des O’Connor and Vera Lynn. Vera was one of my favourites, doing a rehearsal with her was a great pleasure. The ones that I will never forget were Marlene Dietrich and her musical director, Burt Bacharach. We had a rehearsal in our band room and we only played three or four numbers but Burt managed to make you reach musical heights  that you never thought possible and you played like a star. The show in the Albert Hall, London went well. It was for the men who had served in El Alamein during the Second World War. We got through all the supporting acts and then the lights went out and the announcer introduced Marlene Dietrich. A spotlight hit her and there she was in a dazzling sparkling evening dress and of course the audience, including the band, just let out a gasp, she was stunning. We played our first number and it nearly brought the house down, it was of course “ Underneath the Lamplight”, the song she was famous for. After she finished her act there was countless encores and we were thanked profusely by Burt, one moment in music I will never forget.

An annual show was held in the Festival Hall in aid of the National Association of Boys’ Clubs. Tom O’Connor was often the compere, and we quite regularly sat on stage and listened to stars and groups who had their own backing. One great character was Tommy Cooper, we were supposted to play shock cords when he did his magic bit but we could hardly play for laughing. We often played on the radio. My first time was an old programme called Workers Playtime and it must have been nearly one of its last broadcasts but who of our age could ever forget that signature tune. Another regular job was “Friday Night is Music Night”, there was another programme which usually had a military band on but I can’t recall its name now, maybe if will come back to me for the end.

Summertime in the band was always a very busy time so much so that we couldn’t plan our family life or make arrangements even for a week in advance as work was coming in daily and we could do Changing of the Guard in the morning, jump on a coach, and do a concert in Liverpool, travel back overnight for guard changing next morning, then on down to Eastbourne for a week, this was all part of our life, and we acceoted it, well we had to. It didn’t make for a very good summer period for our families but it was our job. There were also trips abroad. The first one I went on was to Turin in Italy; it was a gathering of many of the big European bands and was another time in my army career to remember.

One of our main annual jobs was the Trooping of the Colour held on Horse Guards Parade. This took quite a lot of rehearsal and we practised on the Square of Chelsea Barracks, the most difficult part of the parade was that drill movement, yes, the dreaded spin wheel but most of the musicians on parade had already done this routine so there were plenty of the old hands to help the rookies. We had a larger parade ground and a much bigger band and all of this made this movement even more of a spectacle when you see the massed bands of the Brigade of Guards on parade, you are seeing the wonderful majesty and tradition that tourists from all over the world flock to see. The weather too played an important part in this parade and most years it was just right but we did have scorchers and that was    when some of the Guardsmen fainted. When you consider the length of time they spent on parade and for most of that time stood to attention, the pressure was bound to get to some of them and they keeled over. We in the band were too occupied with our musical programme because sometimes the march we were playing had to be cut off at the end of a particular phrase and it was the Senior Drum Major’s job to give us the signal and we would then go right into the next march. The senior bass drummer had to be on the ball to keep his beat in time with the March tempo.

This was a fantastic spectacle, the massed bands and the various Guards’ regiments including the Horse Guards and Life Guards all took part and this really added to the show. The first march past was in slow time then done again in quick time. After the foot soldiers had completed their march past, the cavalry repeated the same drills. When the cavalry had done their bit, they formed up off the parade ground at the top of the Mall and waited there till our part of the parade was finished and, at a signal, the Horse Guards trotted off and we followed on. Then came another heart stopping moment, the massed bands struck up and the noise of the bass drums beating was incredible, I can’t describe the feeling this gave me. We marched down the Mall and the crowds lining both sides of the road were huge and all clapping and waving, we made our way down to the Palace and the troops marched past again. The Royal family were now on the balcony of the Palace and the crowd was massive, the bands entered the front courtyard and played some light music while Changing of the Guard took place.

One bit of the parade no one liked was when we marched off at the top of the Mall where the Horse Guards had been standing, they left piles of dung and this attracted little black flies which sometimes got in your mouth when you were taking in a breath to blow but apart from that, it was and always will be a parade that I am proud to have taken part in. When we got back to Chelsea Barracks we washed and went round for a much needed pint or two. We took part in another parade later on in the year on Horse Guards a beating the retreat and this too was a big show. There was also a big show at Wembley Stadium and this was a marching musical spectacular and was another cracker to take part in. We would spend a week playing on the bandstand at places like Eastbourne, Bournemouth or the Embankment Gardens in London and we played at venues the length and breadth of Britain in fact soon after I joined the Guards we had a week in Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh and my mother came through to see me and she was fair proud of her wee son, the band played magic that day and so did I, well I thought I did. Another job came up for abroad, it was the Berlin Tattoo, so we packed up and were off again. Our accommodation was barracks near an RAF camp, not far from the venue and on our first days rehearsal while we were waiting to do our stint, a voice behind me said “Well, well, if it’s no wee Buckie wearing a red tunic and a big hairy hat”. It was one of the boys called Duggie who was in the barrack room the very first night I arrived at Fort George.

The Seaforth Highlands, my old regiment, were stationed in Berlin and were taking part in the tattoo as well, not the band, but a drill squad and Duggie, who was now a Sergeant Major  and me still stripeless after all these years but my time did come, he told me that my old band were stationed not too far away, so next night I went up to the barracks and asked where the band was billeted, I went upstairs and into the room. The first person I saw was big Mac, the guy who had battered me on the face with the hockey stick many years before, it was the only time I saw Mac dumb struck, he asked me how my nose was, so typical of him. Later on in the evening I met up with George, who was a great mate of mine, and we went down to his local bar and had a right old blether and I must say it was good seeing him again.

We reminisced about the times I took him home with me to Bo’ness from Redford Barracks. One time he was showing my mother how the Drum Major used his mace using my mother’s new brush just bought from Castle loan store as a prop, he twirled it a couple of times then chucked it up in the air and when it landed the coal lorry ran over it. He said he’d get a new brush back at the barracks, how the hell he was going to get a brush out of barracks I’ll never know. He now lives near West Calder where my wife comes from and I speak to him occasionally and we still talk about the incident with the brush. All these memories are good, some sad, but most of them are funny. Life in the Guards band was following its normal course when we were informed that we were going on tour to South America. A week in Buenos Aires, another in Santiago and a third week in Chile accompanied by the pipe band of the Royal Scots. The pipe band came to Chelsea barracks and we had a few rehearsals, mainly show ring sort of stuff, but it gave us a chance to get to know one another and learn the difference drill manoeuvres of each others bands. The pipe band had their own drum major and he would be leading us on the march, it all went very well and, after a few run throughs, we went for a few pints and later became good buddies. We stayed in some really nice hotels and I shared rooms with big Peter Burgess, an extremely good friend of mine, he was an ex Scots Guards’ tuba player and we still have contact over the internet. The pipers used to go out in the evening dressed in their kilts and boy did they attract some attention, we in the Mick band went out in civvies, well uniform trousers didn’t quite compare to a kilt. The first show was in Luna Park, a huge stadium and our first rehearsal took ages, the heat was fierce but we had to get on with it. We soon got everything sorted out, where to start, to turn, to mark time and finally where to halt.

The show started at 10pm and they were always very well attended. We were supposed to finish just after 11.30 but that depended on how many encores we had and then when we got outside the area there were crows of people, a lot of them ex pats, wanting to take us to their homes for a meal and drinkies, as they called it. We were wined and dined very well and we had to promise to go to their Brits club next day. We did an afternoon show on a Wednesday and this was usually a charity show or a children’s show. At one particular show the place was mobbed with these loverly kids and we were five minutes under show time so our Director told us to play a march called San Lorenzo and the place erupted seemingly this song was taught to the children from a very eary age just as kids in Bo’ness learn the Fair song and they sang their hearts out. Most of us had tears running down our faces, such was the emotion it caused, our Director then found out the local songs in Santiago and Montevideo which were our next ports of call.

The next venue was pretty much the same as the previous one. We played in the World Cup Stadium in Santiago and rehearsal day was a real scorcher, in fact it was opposite to our instruments freezing up in Germany, this time the instruments dried up and the slides and valves became stuck, which meant they had to be well lubricated and the only lubricant was saliva, so here we were in South America, the slavering Irish Guards’ band in all our glory. The shows all went well and the local tunes were much appreciated and, once more, the people were desperate to get us to their homes and wine and dine us. One home I was invited to was like something from a Hollywood film, the family must have been extremely rich, the house was a mansion with all sorts of maids and butlers going about tending to your every need just like being back home I thought!!!

The  meal was steak and some exotic vegetables and I had never seen let alone tasted and the wine was a pure treat so all went well. We were invited to a Police Riding School and it had a strange name, it was called Campo Ventie Cinco Di Majio, I think translated it means The Camp of the 25th of May, why I don’t know, anyway we had a great day there, they laid on what they called a Grande Assado (A BIG BARBI) and we had a ball. The meat was the usual big steaks and piles of lamb and, for some reason, the entrails of the animals which we passed on, there was plenty of beer and, as the day wore on, we all became the very best of friends. I could speak a bit of Spanish so I was el numero uno amigo (No 1 friend) later on the Riding School pupils did a show for us similar to the one the Horse Guards do. At one point the riders galloped towards each other and had to ride between each others’ lines and, unfortunately, one of them was speared in the arm so he was taken away for treatment. After the show we were told we could spend the night there and transport would be laid on to take us back to our hotel when required.

The horse rider who had been injured turned up with his arm in a sling and said he wanted to drink with his “Irish” amigos so we went round a few of the local bars with him and we were hard pushed to buy a drink as he wanted to pay for everything, but we wouldn’t have it. We knew their wages were very low, so we insisted that it was our shout after allowing him to buy us one we made sure we paid for the rest. We got paid weekly out there and while we were away our army wages were still paid into the bank. He told us he would take us to a special place but not to be afraid as he was armed, he took a pistol out of a back holster and showed it and the full magazine to us, a couple of the lads left, but the remainder of us went. The noise was deafening, they were all playing dominoes and on the tables were knives, fierce looking ones too, we decided, on his advice, to have a drink and I had Sangria for the first time in my life, it was quite nice but I am a pint man, so we went back to the cerveza (beer). We didn’t stay there too long thank god and we finished up at his mess and had a few more before leaving. It was quite a memorable little trip, not something you would come across in Bo’ness. We flew between the three countries which were interesting because we saw some of the most fantastic sights, one view I will never forget was flying over the snow capped Andes, harsh and rugged, but breath-taking.

On one of our trips the bands were split into two groups and, luckily on our flight, we had the best grub and a couple of drinks which the others didn’t get, but they did get one hell of a shock. They were flying over some mountains and the plane dropped quite dramatically and old Fred Wiles was lifted out of his seat and cut his head on the baggage rack, the lads did get one big fright and what made it worse was next to them a nun was sitting there reading her rosaries, crossing herself and chanting a prayer which didn’t so much for a bunch of scared witless Mick musicians, however there was no more trauma and they landed safely. It seems the problem was caused by the plane flying over or through a vacuum.

We played in a couple of nice sounding places called Cordoba and Mendoza. In Cordoba we played in a football field, did the usual march up and down then formed a circle and gave them a concert. Ben was on solo clarinet player that day and had a cadenza to play, the music got quieter as he started to play and, while he was playing this little terrier dog, just like the one on the old gramophone records, “His Masters Voice” plonked itself down in front of him looked up and started howling. It was like a scene from a comedy film, the band, including the Director, collapsed in fits of laughter and poor Ben did his utmost to keep playing, but he burst out sniggering too. The next bit was just as funny, when the overture was finished the wee dog got up on its hind legs, front paws on Ben’s legs, looked up at him and believe me it looked as though it smiled, then ran off. In Santiago we were in a lovely hotel situated on an avenue which had the most unbelievable name.

It was called Avienda Bernardo O’Higgins, not the kind of name you expect to see in a South American city. While we were in Buenos Aires the sirens went off one day and there seemed to be a lot of comings and goings and then we were told that President John Kennedy had been assassinated. We didn’t know what was going to happen to our trip, would it be cancelled or not, however that evening we did a more sombre show with out Director wearing a black arm band. What struck us as unusual was all or most of the shops had photographs of the President trimmed with black lace in their windows. We couldn’t figure out where they suddenly appeared from as it’s not something you could prepare for. Montevideo was a lovely place too. I particularly liked seeing the river Plate where that epic bit of history during World War 2 took place. We saw it at night from the top flat of a very high building and the moon was shining on it. Really it was a brilliant sight. The family who had been to our show had invited five of us to their flat for a drink and tasty bites and had told us about the view of the river and they were quite right, it was impressive.

I was playing tenor saxophone on this trip and I really enjoyed it playing alongside big Sid. I have a photo of the two of us standing on the area and it does pull the heart strings when I look at it. A couple of the blokes (one of them was my mucker Willie, he was one of the very few Irish men in the band) got a bad sunburn on a trip to a beach in Montevideo so bad in fact they couldn’t go on parade. This was referred to as a self inflicted injury and consequently they lost some of the pay-out we got on returning to England. The whole trip to South America was excellent, leaving me with a great number of pleasant memories.

Coming home the weather was lovely, flying above the clouds the sun was shining very brightly and we thought it was going to be a warm home coming until we descended below cloud level, it was pouring. We soon got back to our normal duties, Changing of the Guard, concerts, and our trips to Northern Ireland. We never encountered any trouble there. The Irish people were friendly towards us in fact they made us very welcome. When we and the Irish Guards pipe band arrived at a small village we would find our changing area, which was usually the local town hall, then do a reconnoitre to plan our march around the village, after the march the Irish Guards’ drill squad did some drill movements, the idea being to get the audience interested in joining up as Irish Guardsmen. It was called a KAPE tour; this meant keep the Army in the public eye.

We formed a circle and played a number of popular tunes such as American patrol, St Louis Blues, Beatles music and the odd semi classical piece, which they all enjoyed. After our show we were wined and dined and promised to return on our next visit. We were travelling to Hollywood barracks in army trucks one day to do a parade rehearsal and the truck behind us was rammed with the one behind it. I jumped down and ran to see what had happened to the guys inside and saw lots of blood and people sort of bundled up together. One bloke, Colin, was nearly scalped, so I helped him as best I could. My mate, Wynn Thomas, who appeared to be semi conscious, opened his eyes and shouted WHERE’S MY F*****G teeth. We did manage to find them. The ambulance arrived quickly and took the injured to hospital. We carried on to the barracks and did the rehearsal and afterwards our director told us to go and have a couple of pints of Guinness and settle ourselves down, we went into a bar in the camp but it was all a bit subdued.

No one was really badly injured, except maybe the chap who was nearly scalped but he was out a couple of days later with a nice seam of stitches. We had to return to the barracks again to complete rehearsals for the show we were going to do and afterwards we were told to come back for transport in four hours time so old Pincher, myself and Matt went down to the bar in the local hotel. We were in our blues, which was a bluish top with our parade trousers and when we entered the bar a man asked us if we were the Irish Guards’ band, we didn’t quite know what to say but before we could answer, he said “You are in the Mick band and I’m proud to know you”. He wouldn’t let us buy a drink all the time we were there. He said he had had a little bit o’luck on the pools so was proud to buy us Micks a few wee drinks. We didn’t drink spirits in those days but he insisted we try Bush Mills whiskey, well, come parting time we were well oiled and he presented us with a bottle of Bush Mills each. How the hell we got back on that truck I’ll never know but next day was one of woe, I believe you would call it a hangover.

Most of the band who liked a drink took to the Guinness, draught or bottled, and every year we played on the lawn at Belfast Town Hall . The Mayor of Dublin always sent a barrel of Double X up to the band and, after our stint, we sampled the delights of Ireland, and sure it was luvly. We went fishing a few times and used to get some nice catches, don’t know what they were but it was great catching them. One strange thing about the band there weren’t may Irishmen in it plenty of Jocks,Welsh, English, a South African and a Canadian. We were very cosmopolitan as were the rest of the Brigade bands, in fact there was a fair smattering of Jocks throughout the Brigade bands.

We were based in Chelsea barracks next door to the Welsh Guards’ band and we had a great rapport with many of its members and we also shared a few pints with them at a pub at the back gate of the barracks called the Ranelagh. The other Brigade bands were in various camps around London and we really didn’t see very much of them except when we were doing ceremonial parades or playing at Wembley Stadium for the cup finals. After these shows we would get changed back into civvies and go for a couple of wets, sealing the bond of friendship as we called it.   

We also used to meet up in a little café across from the barracks called Millie’s and the food there was a pure treat, the dustmen used it to for their morning break and when we went in someone always whistled the tune of the month which was “My Old Man’s a Dustman” it was soon stopped as the dustmen weren’t impressed. The Armistice Parade at the Centoaph at Whitehall was another big job on our calendar. It was always a bit sad because you saw the war wounded going past in wheel chairs or the blind being guided by their comrades, a huge parade in every respect but a sad one too. We also took part in the Remembrance Show in the Albert Hall attended mostly by ex servicemen and their families and of course with the Royal family in attendance. Back stage was filled with members of the various regiments and, on marching to their seats, they were very warmly applauded, but the biggest cheer was for the Chelsea pensioners dressed in their traditional red tunics as they marched to their seats and they were very smart too, arms swinging and head held high. After the show there was a chuch service and, at the end of the service, thousands of poppy petals rained down, and the audience came down and picked them up as mementoes.

Not long before I left the army a new parade became an annual even, Beating Retreat on Horse Guards Parade. It was always very well attended particularly by foreign visitors who were impressed with the pageantry, the bands and the royal guests. It was and still is a great crowd puller, we may be a small country but we have a lot of proud tradition and these parades are all a part of it. We heard that another trip abroad was in the offing; we were going to Hong Kong, where the Irish Guards were stationed, to rehearse with the pipe band prior to a trip to Japan. I was really looking forward to this trip, the Far East was one of my great desires and now it was about to happen.

We went out to Hong Kong in two parties, the first being the advance party with all the kit, instruments, music, everything that was required for the tour was packed, weighed and numbered, not a great logistical problem but enough to keep us on our toes to make sure it was all there, everything was double and treble checked. I was on the advance party along with my great friend, Wynn, and I warned him before we boarded the plane not to touch anything. Wynn liked to press buttons and chat up the stewardesses, only this time it was male RAF staff on board, he was not amused, to coin a well known phrase. There was also a contingent of Gurkhas on board and they were the nicest most polite people I have every had the pleasure of meeting. I found these trips a bit of a problem, I was never able to drop off into a deep sleep like Wynn after he had had his meal and had fiddled with a couple of buttons above his head, he was soon snoring, I was left trying to nod off but my buddy was giving no quarter with the noise he was making.

At long last we were approaching Kai Tak airport and were told to be prepared for an unforgettable sight. We banked left and saw all these shacks and rickety little boats along the waters edge and jungle vegetation of all kinds. This very narrow valley which we were flying through really was breath taking. We had arrived in Hong Kong and were glad as it had been a long flight. We were taken to Stanley Fort barracks and allocated our sleeping accommodation and I saw a familiar item, a mosquito net, I hadn’t expected to see one of these again. This was to be our new home for a short time while we rehearsed the parade format with the Irish Guards’ pipe band in preparation for our pending tour of Japan. The following morning we paraded with the pipe band on the barrack square and it was very hot, a number of the lads got sunburn, particularly on the face and brow, so someone handed us a load of hats of all shapes and sizes to ward off the suns’ rays. We didn’t look very military but the hats did the required job. We had a great rapport with the pipe band and this friendship carried on for many years as we often met on various parades and tours.

A few of the pipers had already been in Japan and they told us all about their tour and it was all very interesting, and it made us look forward even more to our forthcoming trip. They also told us the Japanese for thank you, goodbye and how to ask for a beer, so we were well prepared. They also showed us how to bow to the Japanese when leaving a pub or restaurant.Everything they told us made us all the more eager to experience it for ourselves. One of our musicians, Tom Davis, who was quite a humorous person, came away with a little quip, he said he was going to wear an extra jersey on the aircraft and of course I asked him why, more fool me, and he said in case there was a nip in the air. Nip for those who don’t know is the slang word for a Japanese person; he caught one or two of the band with the same joke while we were waiting to board our flight to Japan. The flight was almost over and eventually we landed at Haneda airport in Tokyo tired and feeling stiff but still looking forward to the coming tour. We disembarked from the plane and were transported to our accommodation at the Hotel Otanni.

We were taken aback when we saw it; magnificent was the only word to describe it. This was going to be a cracker of a tour if all the hotels were of this standard and they were, they were all first rate. Certainly a lot better than some of  the barrack rooms we had to stay in on occasions; things just got better all the time. Our kit was now being handled by tour porters so we were excused the trouble of dealing with it ourselves, what more could one ask. My two mates, Matt and Willie and I, decided to scout around downtown Tokyo after getting settled into our rooms. We found a small café and were warmly welcomed by all the staff so to start off we ordered three beers. Willie had somehow discovered the Japanese sign for beer so for the rest of the tour he was promoted to tour guide for Matt and I. We were feeling tired after the flight so we had an early night in preparation for rehearsals next morning which we knew would take a long time. The area for the show had to be measured so that everything was spot on. The rehearsals we had done in Hong Kong with the pipe band paid off and everything fell into place quite easily.

The venues were school gymnasiums and they were huge as the children over there were very keen on their national sports karate etc. They enjoyed watching our rehearsals though. The night of the first show arrived and there was a massive crowd, it was very intimidating looking out to the show area, then when we marched out the cheers and applause were deafening, one again the hairs on the back of the neck were standing to attention. This is what we had come all this way to do and we gave a show that only the military and pipe band of the Irish Guards could give. At the interval a Japanese lady gave me a programme and asked if both bands would autograph it, which we duly did and she was delighted. When the show was over she gave me a huge bunch of flowers, her family came to meet Matt, Willie and myself and they were present at every show we did, so they covered a few miles as well!!!

The tour started off with three shows in Tokyo, then we got on the road. One trip started off with a ride on the bullet train, it was a sight to behold and so comfortable and en route to our next venue we saw Mount Fuji, that too was awesome, so many spectacular sights seemed to be the order of the day. Two places that will never be forgotten are Hiroshima and Nagasaki, these were the cities where the atomic bonbs were dropped, we toured the area and went into the museums on both the bomb sites, it was quite moving. The places we played were Tokyo, Nagasaki, Fukuoka, Hroshima, Himeji, Kanazawa, Toyama, Osaka, Sapporo, Nigata, Hokkaido, Sasebo, and Kobe, all of these places were wonderful, very clean and the people so polite. Lots of bowing, we were getting pretty good at that, and also saying thank you and goodbye in Japanese, which the Japanese appreciated. The whole tour, parade wise, went off very well and we all enjoyed it, the hightlight was playing for the Emperor of Japan. We were the first foreign military band to play in the Palace for many years. We marched up and down the Palace grounds and formed a circle as we did at Buckingham Palace and played a few popular tunes, also a couple of Japanese songs called Sakoorah Sakoorah and Ping Pong Pung, these went down very well.

Then after our stint, we got a couple of beers and horrible dry turned up at the corners thin sandwiches and the beer was warm as well, so its not what one would say a good place to eat. The Emperor presented us with two solid silver tea spoons, they were better than stirring your tea with chop sticks, I still have mine. The morning we were leaving the Otanni Hotel we got the shock of our lives. The impresario, a Mr Kagaweggi who organised the trip, hadn’t paid any of the hotel bills and all our kit and instruments were confiscated, so there we were standing in a hotel forecourt in Tokyo, broke and very heavily in debt. It was eventually sorted out and we were allowed to go home and we heard later that Mr Kagaweggi committed Hari Kari, a sad ending to a wonderful tour of Japan. I treasure the memories I have from that tour.

Going on the bullet train, seeing Mount Fuji, and geisha girls, using chop sticks, bowing and saying domo arrigato (thank you) and the Japanese showing delight because we had taken the trouble to be polite and learn a very small smattering of their language.One thing I forgot to mention was I saw a bottle of Japanese whisky in a shop and Matt, Willie and I bought it, it was called Black Nikka and it was as smooth as silk and very cheap. Matt and Willie raved about this non Scottish whisky saying it was much better than the real stuff, I told them to go and bile thur heids (Scottish for go and boil your heads), we still laugh about that.

The family who were at most of our shows presented me with lovely Kimonos and happy jackets, also shoes, waist bands and socks. They were delighted because I had the programme of every show they attended autographed for them. The lads in the band wondered what was going on especially as they were giving me flowers as well, I told the lads it was my Scottish personality, don’t think they believed me though. It was a lovely tour with lots of memories but it was also lovely to be going back home to our families. There is a further item I have forgotten to mention, these memories do come back at the most awkward time, and this one is quite funny.

When I first arrived at Wellington barracks I had to share a barrack room with five huge Irish Guardsmen, this was only temporary until I got sorted out as I wasn’t married at that time. They welcomed me with open arms saying how chuffed they were that a wee Scotchman as they caled me was joining the Irish Guards’ band instead of that Scottish mob, the Scots’ Guards, and they would help me settle in, show me how to polish the boots to Guards’ standard, make my bed, clean my kit, polish the brass kerby chain and also press my different tunics, so I acted the poor wee recruit who had never seen Brasso or made a bed army style, and let them carry on.

It worked to my advantage until I went for a shower and they saw my tattoos, one with the pyramids, and others that I got in Egypt. Big Sean asked me where I had my tattoos done and I said “Egypt”, he then asked if I had been there on holiday, I said no, I had served there in the army and had eight years’ previous service and added pointing to him YOUNG SOLDIER and pointed to myself and said OLD SOLDIER, his expression when he realised he had been had frightened me to near panic but he held out his hand and used an Irish phrase Bair play ti yrsell, ya wee devil, yure still welcomed to the Micks I was relieved. With the Japanese trip well behind us it was back to the bread and butter way of life for the band of the Irish’ Guards. The band have a bi annual dinner and these are always well attended reunions, my first one was held in the banqueting room upstairs in Victoria station and I recall a fairly new lad called Sam Lindley brought a very famous star of radio, films and theatre to the reunion as his guest, his name was Lesley Sarroney, he had a repertore of fun, songs and risqué jokes and it went down well. I had my first taste of gin and tonic that night, Paddy Donnelly, another Irishman, his name of course gives you the clue where he came from, insisted on buying it for me.

 I had never in all my life tased it and I thought it was delicious. It wasn’t the kind of thing people drank where I come from  although I suppose some ladies did, but the Butch Jock drank whisky. I didn’t like whisky in those days, in fact I hated it, but after some practise sampling it, I got used to it and I really enjoyed the beautiful national drink of Scotland with a wee drop of water enough to release the flavours, so if anyone who has read this and meets me in a bar remember the wee drop of water!!! Further band reunions have had various venues but the regular meeting and dining place has become Wellington Barracks, this is ideal, not too far from Victoria Station, the price of the beer AND WHISKY very acceptable and there is more room to move about in.

I have only missed one band dinner, this was because of a medical problem, but have since attended the rest of the, I realise it’s a long way to travel for a drink and a meal but I regard it as one of life’s pleasures and I get a great buzz walking into the room and seeing the old and older faces, and what I really like is getting told “Billy Buck you are looking great and you haven’t changed at all” that’s what makes it all the better, hearing the truth from these
old pals !!!! We lost our Director of Music, Major Horrabin, and our new Director was Mick Lain, a really nice chap but he too left the band through illness and they now have a Mister Henderson, who is a Scotsman.

We had a few more tours which we all enjoyed such as the Calgary stampede which was awesome seeing the bucking broncos, the chuck wagon races and using the lasso to bring down bull calves. Some of us bought Stetsons and walked about like cowboys just for a bit of fun, we were stationed in Curry barracks and that was the first time we had heard of BRUNCH and we enjoyed every morsel of it. Later on we went to London Ontario, it was a fairly quiet type of a job but the food and the beeer were good, while we were there Labatts, the brewery, were on strike and there wasn’t a drop of the amber liquid to be had after we had drank that first one.

Once again we were eating those big fillet steaks and huge side dishes, my trousers seemed to have shrunk as it was getting difficult to fasten them, it must have been the rain. En route we stopped off at a place called Gander and we enjoyed the lovely scenery and the lovely bar, having the odd sip of beer seems to come up quite a lot in this story but we really did only take it as a thirst quencher and very moderately at that, as Pincher Martin once said!!!

After our Canadian tour we went up to the north of England, I can’t recall where, on a KAPE tour and we were billeted in corrugated huts with a T. A. unit and they were a rough lot, they consumed lots of pints and we were invited to spend some time with them and sample their hospitality, so those of us Pincher, myself, Sam, Ben, Pat and Ron who were partial to a small drink joined them, after all it would have been a sin to see that amber liquid go off and have to be poured away!!! While we were there Bob Horton caught Sam Lindley in a cracker of a scam, he told Sam there were nurses very near our camp and they were coming up to the Territorial Army mess room for a dance, Sam’s eyes lit up and we all made a poor attempt at getting dolled up and we let Sam get into his best as he wanted to be first in the “queue”, he was champing at the bit to get away while we were sitting about reading old newspapers, then he twigged what was going on, he used the F word a couple of times then said he would never be caught again.

During my years in the Guards I had several part-time jobs, extra money was always useful with a growing family. A mate, Harry Copnall, who worked part-time with an ex member of the band’s father who had a Building Company, got me my first job. He asked if I was interested in a part time job building and renovating houses, so I said “Yes” but I didn’t have a clue about laying bricks etc, he assured me I would soon learn and I did. I was sent down to the cellars to fill in holes and I loved it, we really had a great time doing these jobs. I often wonder if those houses are still standing, with their dodgy cellars, part-time jobs were ok and a lot of the lads had them, some of them were quite diverse. In my time I’ve cleaned windows, worked as a barman and of course played the dance bands. At one time I even played with a German Oompha Band, I rather enjoyed that. Some of the jobs were a little more mundane like the one in a factory making hardboard parts for the insides of cars. It was a nice clean little job using mostly hardboard and I was amazed when I discovered what actually went in to the insides of cars.

There were very many items required and I was on most of the machines and soon learned how to set them up so the pay went up to a good standard and the wages were good for part-time work. Some time later the factory closed down and I was disappointed as it meant I had to look for another job. I eventually found one in a paint factory with Wynn Thomas, or GROTCH as he was known, it was ok but really not my scene. One time Wynn was making blackboard paint and it was made with a very fine black powder and you were supposed to pur it gently into a huge blender but he walloped it in and this huge black cloud arose and covered him, he looked like someone from the Black and White Minstrel show. He often left that factory with a multi coloured face as happy as a pig in shit, but that was Wynn. He was a brilliant tuba player and a gem of a man who would go to any lengths to help you; sadly he died a few years ago. He often came up to Scotland to visit and he was well known in my local bowling club as he was fond of the (pensioners, ageing ladies) old jobs as he called them, he heaped presents on my grandchildren and assisted me in finishing a small bottle of whisky, he had more than the lions’ share but I didn’t mind as he was a special friend.

My time in the band was drawing near to demob before that I got the LSGC medal (long service and good conduct medal) and it was presented at Caterham barracks by the Major General who pinned it on my chest and it fell off, was that an accident I asked myself. The day arrived when I was given my parting present from the band, I did feel quite sad, close on 25 years army service was coming to an end, so the next thing was to get as many of the band as possible round to the Ranelagh pub for a farewell drink, a lot of the lads turned up so I said my farewells and after a pint or two headed to Kings Cross railway station for the train to Edinburgh and, from there, the final lap of my journey back to Bo’ness from where my journey had started off 25 years before. We settled in Bo’ness with our family which has grown to include our five lovely granddaughters. I was employed as a charge hand in the core shop of the local foundry for the last 20 years of my working life.

This was a job I really liked but now I am an old age pensioner and am enjoying gardening, Fly tying, and fishing in the river Clyde in Lanarkshire where we have a lovely cabin. I can’t play the saxophone and clarinet now and walking is also a problem, my thumbs have been damaged by the job I had and I have had six operations on my knees but I try to keep on the move. Fishing and bowling take more effort now but if I get tired while fishing I can have a rest on the bank and think of the good times I have had. I regard these two pastimes as a spectator sport and get a lot of pleasure from watching other people taking part. We are happily retired now and have been on holiday to places that we didn’t have time to go to while we were working and will continue to do so as long as we are able. I treasure my memories from my army life, all the bad memories are long forgotten, the good ones are always on my mind.

"I am proud to say I am lucky to have been an army musician"

BILLY BUCK

And here are some pictures from my photo album

Seaforth Band - Gibraltar - 1955
Me, middle row, second from the right.

And finally - a page of pictures from my book "RED JAM - GREEN JAM"