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The 'Memories' page contains memories/stories about their days at Denbury Camp. If you have a memory or story from your days at Denbury then please use the 'Create Entry' option above to include your tale of days past.

Next >> - Showing 1 to 5 of 31 GUARDROOM SLOGANS - Mick 'Happy' Taylor Those who spent an innocent time at Denbury, and didn't spend as much time as me in the nick or on jankers, may not remember the slogans over the guardhouse door to the cellblock: TEDAANA - "Treat Every Day As A New Adventure" and AATAOLBYK,WTHBWCW "After All They Are Only Little Boys, You Know, We Try Hard But We Cannot Win". I have these same slogans on the wall of the Youth Club I now run. ICE, FIRE AND BACCY - Mick 'Happy' Taylor My first traumatic recollection was the end of Christmas term Outward Bound competition, a night trek from ??? north to Okehampton Battle camp. As the dreaded day approached we could see the snow building on Hey Tor. A row broke out between the MO and the CO about the advisability of carrying on. The CO said "My boys can cope". The MO disagreed, and began signing light duty chits as fast as people could get to the medical centre. He ran out of time, and the net result was that platoons were decimated, just 3s and 4s. We were coached out to Dartmoor, wind howling and snow falling, wearing just battledress. This was the thursday night, and they were still finding people wandering lost on the Sunday. I remember Tony Thompson from F troop was one of the last picked up, and it turned his head: he was shipped quietly out and medically discharged. We were lucky : completely lost, stumbling through the blizzard when we caught a glimpse of headlights swinging in a circle, above us to the left: it was one of the trucks turning on the loop of road through Okehampton Camp: We were heading merrily north, about a mile off course. Where we would have got to without that sign I shudder to think: that stew tasted good. I can also remember the fire that burnt out the old F troop spider. I had the bed next to the fire door in the middle wing, and when people ran into the room followed by whisps of smoke, shouting "FIRE", I was off my bed and out the door. Got to the bottom of the ramp, and remembered my guitar, went back in for it, and in those few seconds the fire travelled the length of the room, and I lost my eyebrows getting out, Saved the guitar though. The speed of the fire was all that polish on the floor. I remember standing looking up the room, and watching lockers drop through the floor in opposite pairs : very regimental. The other hazard was the shower of exploding pieces of asbestos from the roof. ( and all those hidden tins of contraband compo rations). I still have a piece of molten glass with Denbury soild inside that used to be my window. The one piece of new kit they couldn't immediately issue were stable belts, so it became a mark of escape from the fire to wear jumpers outside trousers, until the powers got tired of our little rebellion and clamped down. I was also reminded by Jim Brown of my nasty habit of spending all my wages on Old Holborn, and once people had squandered their hard earned on taylor made fags and a Friday night out, I became the snout baron, breakfast tea in bed, boots polished, shirts ironed. YATES PALACE OF PAIN - Jim Garrett Does anyone remember Yates had a small 10 line exchange in the guardroom. When he used to answer it he used to bellow BASTILLE!! I remember when I was doing 7 days in his palace, I used to have to stand in front of his desk and say over and over again YATES IS A B******D while he sat there and roared with laughter. You really went through all the emotions. First laughter, then you really meant it, then tears! John Nicholls used to stand there laughing too. I remember that after our pass out parade in Dec 59, we could drink legally. We went down to Newton Abbot and all got plastered. Yates came down town and rounded us all up and took us back to camp, made sure we were all tucked up and got us all up for the trains in the morning. Completely different in Character. John Nicholls (I remember we used to call him the PIG) lived a few doors away from me when I was at 16 Sigs Krefeld, He and his familly , really nice people. Does anyone else remember being in the recruiting film they made about 58/59. Never got the chance to see it. Wonder what happended to it. They had us canoeing down the stream that ran behind the assault course and climbing rocks just down the road. We were all roped together and about 6 feet off the ground. The cameraman was lying on the ground saying look scared! We all shouted, "WE ARE F******G SCARED". GREAT SITE. Great times, I have to say I enjoyed every minute that I spent there. SWEETS CHOCOLATE ON THE MOOR - Mike Mangan Yes we had somme fun. I remember the Yeti taking Ginge Fawcett and myself and dropping us off somewhere in the middle of the moor one evening where the two of us camped out. The following morning the troop were to set off some miles away from us, each patrol from a different location. The first patrol to navigate reach us were to be given a cornflake box full of compo boiled sweets and chocolate that we had been given to hand to the winners. About mid day we could see all the patrols more or less grouped together, legging it to be the first to us but by then we'd ate the lot bar a bar boiled sweets. Discretion being the better part of valour we donned our already packed kit and legged it in the opposite direction with them chasing us over the moor for a good while (not written into the exercise). Eventually we collapsed laughing our socks off. The first lad to us triumphly claimed the goodies - they were so pissed off with us - and I could'nt understand why they did'nt share our sense of humour!!. - Happy days. FUN DAYS ON THE MOORS - Dave Stokes On one of our ‘Fun days’ out across the moors, we had been out on the Thursday eve/night, bivvy’d down to early morning, then off again on our jolly jaunt. Needless to say, as you know it ‘must’ have been raining, it had to, it always did. After a day of map and compass bearings, soaking wet through to the skin, and every time you stopped to take another bearing, a trickle of cold water would run down from your collar down the middle of your back down into your pants, and you would shudder with the cold of it. You are now cold hungry and miserable, and just can’t wait to reach the rendezvous, because you know on the truck there will be plenty of piping hot stew as much as you can eat, and as much steaming hot sweet coffee as you can drink, then the ride back to camp. You all know the feeling, you’ve all been there. As we approached, the daylight was dimming, and we could see a fire burning and two figures standing by a Land Rover, it was at this point feeling a bit happier and with a spring in our step, singing ‘Cheers Cheers the boys are here....... Then!! To our horror we witnessed the truck with ‘Our Food’ on, pulling away! As we arrived, the comforting words of ‘Where the F--- you lot been!!’ ‘Your grubs gone, you’re late!’ ‘ Get your arses round the fire, warm up while we wait for the others to turn up!’ Which they eventually did, our punishment for being late we soon learned, was to make our own way back to Denbury - no food, no hot drink—nothing!! They sent us off in pairs, staggard times. At one stage we came across Dartmeet, in those days there was just a wooden shack with a lift-up hatch to serve food and drinks to tourists, walkers etc: Now what do you do when its dark, you are cold and hungry, and you come across a box of food? Yup! You open it - low and behold loads and loads of chocolate bars and biscuits, stale cake - no hot drinks though, and worst of all ‘no’ fags!! Still, me and Larry Lamb we got stuck in and stashed our pockets - soon we were accompanied by a few more wet and hungry squaddies. At this point we opened the hatch and were then very busy serving our many customers with a smile, and no charge, what a lovely kind couple of guys we were. Then we went on our way, a lot less hungry, but feeling a bit sick - too much chocolate? On our long trek back to camp, we decided that no way would the law know who it was, as the Marines were out as well as us tonight, plus any other old hobble-de hoy who had passed by. Finally reached Denbury after getting a short lift with the Padre, who felt so sorry for us. Thankfully we were allowed the morning off to sleep. Monday morning shortly after 1st works parade Lamb and me were wanted down at the Squadron office at the double by ‘old Bender’ the SSM, who wondered if we knew anything about the Dartmeet café, as the police were in the office with the OC, who was at this moment ‘very upset’ that they would think there was someone on the camp who would let ‘The Regiment’ down, let alone the squadron— I say’s ‘Not us sir, not anywhere near there we weren’t sir! As God is our witness!’ SSM (Bender) stiffens up and says ‘Well it must have been ‘him’ then - we will soon find out for sure, as he left one of his eating utensils behind with his serial No on, and do you know what - its exactly the same No as J/Signalman Lamb, now ain’t that strange!!’ I think that was the first time I ever used the word ‘Plonker’! To cut this very long story shorter, the police were happy to leave it with the regiment to sort out, we got 7 days inside, obviously losing the 7 days pay, plus we had to pay back what had been taken from the shack, - which had been grossly exaggerated by the owner, bloody cheek, you just cannot trust some people sometimes. As you know it was a long way up to the Cookhouse from the Guardroom for meals, with Sgt Yates’s little fat Corporal Nicholls marching us double time ‘eft-eite-eft-eite-eft-eite-eft!!’ (he never could spell) until we were nearly out of ear shot, then ‘Abaht - Tern!!’ then back down past him until nearly out of ear shot again, this repeated, all the way to the cookhouse, we finally got there - Knackered!! But at least we went straight to the front of the queue!! Then back with indigestion  Next >> - Showing results 1 to 5 of 31