BAOR

1946 TIM CHATTING AND A VERY GRAVE AFFAIR AT HUBELRATH - FROM OSS OSBORNE

In B&C 99 Dec 02 was a fascinating insight into Berlin from ‘Oss’ Osborne. He now writes with memories of 1946.
We (S company) were settling down very nicely to the luxury of the Zone at Hubelrath. A distant fly in the ointment was that the Guards Brigade HQ were in the same barracks. I expect the Guards Brigadier, over a couple of Brandies, as Brigadiers will, thought what a good idea it would be if the Norfolks had a Drill Sergeant to smarten them up a bit.
A Drill Sergeant! What on earth was that? We soon found out while having a quiet smoke and a chat. A distant figure, about half a mile away, with a whacking great pace stick, bellowed out: ‘What on earth are you people doing lounging about like spivs at a ladies academy?’ It was our first introduction to ex-Irish Guards Company Sergeant Major William Gilchrist DCM. I'm afraid the Guards RSMs I've seen at Sandhurst are pussy cats compared to Gilly. So that was a Drill Sergeant. We decided to stay out of his way in the future. The ‘we’ being Sgts Bland (IMac), Holland (Dutch) and me Osborne (Oss) of S Coy. Tim Chatting was not then Company Sergeant Major. First a word about IMac - short for immaculate, which he was anything but. Put him in a Saville Row uniform and he would still look like a sack of potatoes. He always had a cheery grin, a half smoked cigarette in the corner of his mouth and his beret at an individual angle. He liked nothing better than to crawl under his carriers to do an oil change, not caring how much oil ended on him. I'm afraid his nickname is not for your delicate ears so IMac will do.
About this time the War Office decided to issue S Coy with combat suits, to be worn from reveille to lights out, in or out of barracks. We were encouraged to use them as roughly as possible, crawling through hedges, over barbed wire and rolling in mud etc. Inevitably Gilly met up with Imac. It was in the middle of the MT Square, just after Imac had done an oil change. I would have loved to been there, but I have it on good authority, (Alf Cooke was keeping quiet on the side lines), that Gilly didn't draw breath or repeat himself for a half hour. Anybody else would have wilted, but it was water off a duck’s back to Imac, a typical Norfolk Boy.
Sometime later Tim Chatting was acting RSM and I had been lumbered with S Coy admin etc. One lovely morning I was full of good cheer after a hearty breakfast and wandered early to the Coy Office. At the end of our block was a nicely kept lawn and I noticed what looked like a new flower bed in the middle. On closer inspection it turned out to be a very neat grave, nicely earthed up with withered weed flowers on top and a well made cross stating that a certain Drill Sergeant Major was resting there in peace. I was up at 20 000’ in no time. Should I go back to the Mess and pretend I hadn't seen it or go over the hill and why on earth couldn't they have dug it outside A Coy? Still at 20 000’ I went to the office to decide what to do. I didn't want to spoil the fun and I certainly didn't want to bear the brunt of Gilly's wrath or let Tim down. After a miserable half hour or so, I decided to remove the cross, leaving an innocent flower bed and no one would be the wiser. I needn't have bothered as Tim had got word. There was no cross, no grave, the turf was neatly back and there was no sign of the felonious deed.
But there was a complacent Tim surveying the scene. ‘Problems Sarn't?’ ‘Er, no Sarn't Major.’ ‘Right oh then, see you later.’ And off he strolled.

That was Tim - a doer; and not a word was said afterwards as I'm sure it was a very well kept secret. B&C 105