Free The Loose Screw by Jim Dawkins Page A

prepare them for when they would take up their new posts as platoon commanders.
    My platoon's primary role at that time, however, was to carry out various ceremonial duties all over the country, such as the one we had just done in Cardiff. Although this was at times fun and it gave us the opportunity to visit many different places, it was also very tiring and at times boring due to the long hours spent on coaches and living out of suitcases. Apart from anything else, unlike the members of the Peninsula Band who accompanied us on such duties, we as buglers were primarily trained infantry soldiers and we missed being able to act as such.
    It was not long, however, before our tour of duty at Warminster thankfully came to an end and we began to pack up in readiness for our move to Dover. The whole battalion was looking forward to our new posting. We were due to become part of the air-mobile force and could look forward to some real infantry work once again. We also had some good tours coming up such as Canada and for me and many of my fellow young soldiers our first emergency tour of Northern Ireland.
    In August 1988 we arrived at Connaught Barracks, which is situated at the top of the hill in Dover overlooking the town's impressive castle. We took over from the Irish Rangers who were full of typically rowdy, fiery Irishmen who liked nothing better on a Friday night, or any night come to that, than a good drink followed by a good punch-up. For this reason alone, although the Green Jackets were not particularly known as the best regiment to have in residency, we were welcomed by most of the town's landlords who had previously refused entry to many of our predecessors.
    The nightlife in Dover was better than Warminster purely because of its port and the mix of people who passed through it. There were three main pubs in the town's centre. The Elephant and Hind in the Market Square was where most nights would begin. Then there was The Dover Tavern, which was my favourite because it was a real 'spit and sawdust' bar and at the time was run by fat Duncan. And finally there was the slightly more upmarket Britannia, which actually had a fully fitted carpet in it. As I say, we quickly settled into our new posting and as a platoon we settled into our new role, which was back in B (Support) Company where you found the battalion's Mortar, Milan and Machine Gun platoons. My old mate Garry was in Mortar platoon at that time, and as during our posting in Warminster Support Company he had been billeted in Netheravon Barracks we had not seen much of each other apart from when on leave.
    It was about this time that I and Natasha had finally separated during an emotional night whilst I was on leave. We had separated a couple of times before during my training, but always got back together when we met up again later. This time, though, such reconciliation seemed unlikely as she appeared a little more definite on this occasion. I remember feeling as if I had lost part of myself as I walked from her house in Glenforth Street, Greenwich early the next morning. Despite our problems she had been a tower of strength to me, but maybe I did not give her the attention she deserved and needed at the time. I did, however, know how much I truly loved her and wonder how I would cope without her in the future. I was sad, too, that I felt I would never see the rest of her family again, as I had grown very attached to all of them.
    Natasha's mum, Dorothy, or Dot as everyone knew her, was and still is a marvellous woman. She is originally from Portrush in Northern Ireland and was blessed with a great Irish sense of humour as well as that nation's well-known hospitality. I had known Dot for some six years at this stage and considered her to be like my own mother as she had virtually brought me up with her family since the age of fourteen. Also I would miss Natasha's sisters -Nikki, who I mentioned earlier, and her youngest sister Samantha, or Tiny as we called her.