Poems about the Army Apprentices School, Harrogate
(Attributed to Terry Corbett, intake 54B, with some subsequent editing)

The Journey

We set off from home to be soldiers
On the sixth of the ninth ’fifty four,
Fifteen years old, some nervous, some bold.
“Learn a trade, you’ll do well” we were told.

The 10.10 from King’s Cross pulled out dead on time,
“Mallard” the engine, the pride of the line.
After two miles of track we started to fly,
The houses and trees were a blur passing by.

Changed at Northallerton. A small diesel train
Took us onwards to Harrogate where we got off again.
Two sergeants called out “Fall in lads, over here,
When we call out your name, get lined up, have no fear”.

The grizzled old sergeant said “I’m Sergeant Bowsley.
Get fell in behind me, not in twos but in threes”.
The Irish one shouted “And Oi’m Sargeant. Caine,
An’ fall in behind me, not in twos but in TREES”.

Up drove the three-tonners, “You lot get in first.”
We scrambled aboard, banging knee-caps, we cursed,
“And you lot behind, get into the others”.
All raw recruits, no trained “Band of Brothers”.

The convoy rolled off and out of the town,
For more than five miles we were bounced up and down.
A sudden turn left along Pennypot Lane
And we entered the place with the infamous name.

With thanks to  Trevor "Bill" Powell for this contribution.