When I joined the (British) Army on about day 3 my platoon were marched to the clothing store, where we were issued with our uniforms ( as ever, three sizes, too big, too small and don't fit!). All contained in a kitbag and a suitcase, a large pack with all our web equipment on our back and a tin hat perched on our bonce. Medical centre was next to the clothing store, so inside, all our shots in the arms, back out, pick up our heavy suitcase and kitbags with our newly punctured arms and marched back to our lines. The next day - talk about sore arms! The shouty man with the ridiculous slash peaked cap who was such an enthusiast for swinging our arms shoulder high had an epic tantrum which lasted all day! We were horrible idle officer cadets gentlemen! Idle is the worst crime ever to a Guards Colour Sergeant! Happy days, all part of growing up and being British! Never did catch any of the dreaded lurgies they jabbed us for!
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