LESSONS IN LIFE - PART 1960

Funny how money can get you into trouble. Just before I started my National Service - 50 years ago this month - Her Majesty The Queen sent me a postal order for one shilling through the post. I stupidly accepted it and so unknowingly entered into a `contract` with her to spend 731 days of my life in service to Queen and country. If only the post had gone astray...

When I took the train to Catterick, I took with me a supply of `stuff` that I thought would come in handy - notably a selection of `toilet requisites` and some cash from my savings. It quickly dawned on me that the opportunity to actually spend any cash was severely limited to the odd packet of fags and tins of blanco and boot polish. When, after our first week, the first pay parade happened, we were marched to a table in the corridor, behind which sat an officer, whose job it was to dole out our pay for the week and a pay sergeant, who made baffling entries in our pay books.

I was handed the princely sum of 15/9d (about 78p) for which I had to spring smartly to attention, salute crisply and loudly declare that my `pay and allowances` were correct, sir. I found it hard to resist muttering words to the effect that if that was the best they could come up with, then maybe I should hand it back as they seemed to need it more than I did.

Big mistake. The upshot was that I was frogmarched to the canteen, where I was to spend the next three days from 6.00am until 7.00pm up to my elbows in greasy tepid water, cleaning out cooking tins, dinner plates and assorted cutlery. (In army parlance, those items were, of course, known as `tins cooking,` `plates dinner` and `cutlery assorted, eating for the use of.`) Army 1 - Snopper 0.

I have never once looked a gift horse in the mouth since.