[Energumen]

Oh Dear, I feel another 'silly boy' reminiscence coming on.

It was as I remember, the year, (in the sixties), that the Causeway, between Weymouth and Portland was severely damaged and massive mounds of beach cobbles, washed into the rear yards of the properties at the Portland end of the Causeway, before the hill which climbs up to the Prison/ Old Quarry.

We were either under canvas at Wyke Regis, or hutted at Chickerell Barracks, I am unsure as, the years seem to run into one another nowadays.

Well, cab happy as ever, I am driving , back to our Barracks at Brighton, a non eventful trip. But on our dispersal from the barracks, and it being early morning, I am volunteered for the 'Milk Run', taking all the people , whom were without transport, along with their heavy kit, home.

The only vehicle that was empty and with troop seating available at this time, was the Commer Q4 3ton Cargo.
So orf I go with all the lads aboard and gradually drop my human cargo in all areas of the Town. My personal kit being the last dropped off, and other, more personal, and temporarily suspended duties fulfilled, I set off to return to the Barracks.

Well it was a very steep hill and at a point where the road formed a sharp left hand bend, though on a trolley bus route, it was not more than about twenty feet wide, and there were parked vehicles, slightly offset on alternate sides, creating a slalom effect.
When I was at a point where I was at a diagonal angle between two such vehicles, the engine coughed and died, Shute!, no petrol and the first early buses would start running out soon.

I have no alternative but to coast back round the bend and obstructive vehicles, to a point where I can get alongside the Kerb.
A helpful paper boy appeared and offered to see me back, good job too, we know about those 2 inch mirrors from the Wife's handbag. What a helpful young man, I could barely and intermittently see anything in those mirrors, he disappeared behind me and became a phantom voice, "come on, come on, come on, come"-Crunch!. In my off side mirror, a bit of kerb between vehicles, and just behind the truck, the offside rear corner of a parked Bedford dormobile caravanette. Shute!. Only creeping, very little damage at all. The boy, not only helpful, but now invisible, had vanished, I felt so sorry for him, he must have been shushing himself.

I Got the truck into the side after the Bedford owner had moved his vehicle, then it was time to ring my Corporal at home, (I have since learned what he was doing, after two weeks away). filthy habit. He eventually turns up with a can of petrol and gets me going.

But how stupid am I, just to prove it, he notices two jerry cans on the rack behind the cab, and yes, they are full.
Too quick to jump in the cab again, did not realise the fuel had run low, (it had been filled prior to leaving Weymouth), did not realise there were full jerry cans aboard. I need not have run out, need not have had to reverse out of the middle of the road, nor, interrupted my Dear Corporal's coupling activities.
More painfully, I did not need to have made, such a complete pillock of myself.
Again, did I hear you say?.