The Army Knows Best

Whilst stationed in Gibraltar, I decided that marching was not really the way my career in the Army should be directed. I would be much better off in the Motor Transport section – riding was preferable to walking.

One day a notice appeared stating that corporals were required for transfer to other duties, any one interested should apply. The duties were:

1. Regimental Police
2. Battalion Cook.
3. Transport Company, to be in charge of six mules (part of the inventory of Gibraltar station)

Here was my chance. Had I not worked with horses in civilian life? Surely I would be selected, and once in Transport Company, I would always remain so. The mules would be my ticket to ride.

My platoon commander agreed to forward my application, and he would personally put in a good word on my behalf.

Eventually, decisions were made. I was ordered to appear before the adjutant to be informed of his decision. He complimented me on my application, and informed me that he thought I would make a very good Regimental Policeman! Start tomorrow!

Complaining to my platoon commander, and enquiring as to why everything went wrong, he simply said there had been a complaint! Who, I enquired had complained? His reply was surprising – ‘the mules.’

The Army moves in mysterious ways. I, who knew about animals, became a policeman. The transport job went to someone who had spent all his youth working with his father in his transport cafe! The cook’s job went to someone, who, in civilian life, was employed in security at Cardiff Docks!