An Oik's Progress

by Steve Eastwood

  Chapter 42 – A nice earner.

  It was 5 am on a Monday morning and Benny was up and about. He had showered before going to bed so he made a quick cup of tea, brushed his teeth and splashed his face. He crept down the stairs so as not to wake Tom and Neil, although why he was bothering he could not fathom. He grabbed his overnight bag and he was away. He drove to Dave’s yard on the outskirts of Brentwood where he found him warming up the lorry. After collecting some large plastic tubs from the shed and a quick coffee they were away to Romford along the A12.

  ‘These should do you nicely for what you want,’ said David, ‘I got them from my mate who works for Ilford Films. They are a gallon size and they should slide into the fridge easily.’

  ‘How much did you pay for them then Dave?’

  ‘Freemans mate. He owed me a favour.’

  ‘They’re not nicked are they?’

  ‘No. Don’t be silly they get through loads of them. They just dump them in the skip.’

  Once again Benny was amazed at his brother’s resourcefulness. Maggots were sold in Pints and if he could fill and sell five or six tubs a week at £1 a Pint he would be quid’s in. They spent the morning going around South Essex and East London collecting from various butcher’s shops. Benny would follow David into the shops where the chaps all seemed to know him well. ‘Morning Butch!’ would be the refrain. ‘Morning Dave.’ He would then walk through to the back of the shop and collect the fat and bones. David had done this countless times before and he appeared to know the lay-out of each shop intimately. They had a lot of shops to cover and David would be in and out of a shop inside a few minutes. There would still be time for banter though, whether it was the latest joke doing the rounds or West Ham’s prospects for the coming season versus David and Benny’s team, the mighty Tottenham Hotspur.

  ‘This is my brother Benny. He’s helping me out for a couple of days a week.’

  ‘Blimey. Not that geezer from Crossroads! Can I have your autograph please mate?’ One visit turned Benny’s stomach and this was to an abattoir near Billericay. The load to be collected was around twenty bullock’s heads. The eyes were still in place and the cheeks had been cut away from the head (for dog meat) which gave them an even more sinister expression.

  Benny reminded himself that in the job he had seen many dead bodies. He had also attended several post mortems and, provided that they did not involve children, he had become quite hardened to them. But this situation, he didn’t like.

  What surprised him more than anything was the sheer weight of each of the heads and Benny had to pick each one up in turn and put them up on the tail-board of the truck and he would then climb up and lift them into an oil drum. On one lift he was really freaked out when his hand slipped behind an eyeball and into the slippery jelly holding it in place.

  Around mid-day they rolled into the yard in Silvertown and after a quick chat with the foreman David reversed the lorry into the hangar. The scene that confronted Benny made his jaw drop. The floor was completely covered in maggots. There were thousands of them. It seemed that the floor was so greasy it provided a constant running buffet for most of the flies in East London.

  A section of the hangar had been hosed down so David reversed into that area and they dispersed their load across the floor. Having done so David and Benny collected the plastic tubs from the rear of the lorry and proceeded to collect 4 gallons of maggots. They then drove back to the yard in Brentwood via the Fishing shops in Dagenham and Grays where they sold a tub at a time for £8 each (tub to be returnable). What a coup! This represented the perfect recycling process with no cost to David or Benny and it was a great boost to Benny’s income.

  Later that afternoon they celebrated their success with fish and chips in Brentwood washed down with a couple of pints of lager. The next day they got up early and then they repeated the process, finishing back at the yard in Brentwood around 2.30pm.

  Benny returned to Lee-over-sands with that day’s haul of 2 gallon tubs delivering them to Fishing shops in Colchester and Lee. In two days he had made £12 as a wage from working with David and a cool £48 from trading in maggots, £20 of which he gave to his brother. This was as much as he was earning as a Police officer. He was doubling his wages.

  Benny would continue to work for David over the next few months and they carried on trading in maggots until the weather turned cold and the flies went. He would then turn to digging on the beach for Lug and Rag worm to satisfy the Sea Fishing community. All of this meant that he could afford to invest in an 18 month old Ford Capri which he used to good effect in his pursuit of the lovely and fragrant Felicity. The work and the digging hadn’t done his physique any harm either.

  Chapter 43 – Chirp, Scoff, Bang!

  The Colchester Police Division was home to a Military Garrison where, at any one time, there were about 5,000 soldiers stationed. They were a fine body of men and women but some, in drink, would let the side down, so to speak. Some Regiments had a history of antagonism towards each other and when they were not fighting among themselves they were fighting with the locals.

  Benny had been a serving soldier and he knew that among the favourite pursuits of young single squaddies were women, booze, fighting and bragging to their mates about women, not necessarily in that order. They also liked to dare each other to do the outrageous and Benny had witnessed, at first hand, the lengths to which some of the lads would go to have a bit of fun and supposedly win the acclaim of their mates.

  Benny’s first Army posting was to The Army Apprentices College at Beachley Camp near Chepstow, Monmouthshire which was located directly below the old Severn Bridge. It was a beautiful setting but a trip into Chepstow off duty was rarely a pleasurable experience since the soldiers of the garrison were disliked by the locals, for reasons that Benny could not understand, and it would not be unusual to be spat at or called “mochin!” that being “Pig!” in the Welsh language. The younger lads, therefore, would usually stay on camp between home leaves, and make their own fun.

  Due to its location the camp would often be infested with Seagulls which nested among the steel girders under the Bridge and it seemed that they would swoop down into the barracks whenever they needed to dump whatever had been festering inside them. They were deeply unpopular with the lads who regarded them as nothing more than flying rats, “What’s the point of the fucking things, unless you’re in the SAS, they aren’t even edible for Christ sake!”

  It wasn’t that they hated animals or wild life per se but because they were junior soldiers they spent much of their time cleaning the barrack blocks, and their environs, and they were subject to regular inspections. It cut no ice with the Company Sergeant Major if you had done a Stirling job of polishing the front steps of the block only to find that “Birdy” had come and shit all over it minutes before the inspection. So they sought to discourage these flying bandits from bombing their turf and they would employ any means at their disposal to do so.

  The predominant Regiment in barracks were the Royal Engineers with their Trades training, which included City & Guilds Welding. This was held in the workshops located at the rear of the camp. The workshop housed a variety of trades, Plumbers, Electricians, Bricklayers, Painters & Decorators. There was always a mid- morning break for which the Cook House staff would send down a couple of boxes of cake for the lads in the workshop to have with their tea.

  As to whether one received even a sniff of the cake was dependant on the size of the individual as it always entailed diving into a savage scrum of bodies to get the odd morsel. What was usually left in the bottom of the box was a pile of crumbs which might have constituted an extra couple of portions if only the lads had adopted a more civilised approach.

  Then one day, someone who had probably attained an ‘O’ level in Chemistry, hit on their own idea for a bird scaring device. The modus operandi was as follows:-

  1. Select your crumbs from the bottom of the cake box and mould them into a small egg shape.

 
; 2. Walk to the Oxy-Acetylene bottles and douse the egg in Acetylene (only).

  3. Return with the egg (inside your closed palm) outside to the front of the workshop and quickly toss it into the air.

  4. Observe the Seagull fly away triumphantly with the egg in its crop closely followed by its friends.

  5. Wait a few seconds for the Acetylene to react with the contents of its stomach.

  6. Observe the Seagull explode in mid- air to the cheers of the callous bastards you call your mates.

  This practise went on for some time before word got back to the Colonel who announced in the next set of Regimental Orders that the blowing up of Seagulls (or any other wild life for that matter) was banned on pain of Court Martial.

  Chapter 44 – Poetic Justice.

  Benny’s low expectations of his erstwhile colleagues in the Military continued to be realised during his service in the Police as he would sometimes hear of mass pre-arranged Regimental brawls in the town centre after which the units involved would be confined to barracks as a collective punishment. The other element that would raise the tempo of the lad’s behaviour was that of their safe return from a tour of duty in Northern Ireland. Their freedom to roam in relative safety amounted to a release of pressure which manifested in overindulgence.

  On one particular Saturday, whilst driving through the town centre of Colchester Benny had witnessed two drunken squaddies, who were walking along the pavement, deliberately barge into members of the public who were in their path. They had then sworn loudly at them. Benny’s attention was drawn to the pair initially when he saw them banging on the side of a vehicle that was stationery at traffic lights. This had resulted in an altercation with the driver.

  Benny called up on his radio for assistance but before the arrival of a Constable and an Inspector, who were making their way towards him along the lane from the opposite direction, he had witnessed the squaddies threaten or barge into four separate groups of victims. One of these victims was an Asian man with a small child and Benny witnessed one of them walk up to the father and shout in his face “Are you Tottenham?” The man, dumbstruck, had rushed the infant away.

  By this time Benny was getting angry with the sheer arrogance of the pair and he was mightily relieved when he was joined by his colleagues and they were able to grip them before they did any more damage.

  Following their arrest Benny and his colleagues walked the pair to the Police Station which was some 200 yards away through the pedestrian precinct. On being brought before the Station Sergeant it was discovered that the two men were in fact both Military Police Corporals who had been drinking all day on the Garrison. The Military Police Control Room was informed of their arrest and following a telephone call from the Regimental Sergeant Major, an escort arrived at the Police Station to take the offenders back to barracks.

  The arrest had been made on the evidence of what Benny had witnessed. No allegations had been made to the Police by the members of the public who had been abused. They had just wanted to go about their business and get out of the way of the bullying pair.

  It was suggested by the Station Inspector that the offenders would be likely to get some derisory punishment if they were to appear before the Magistrates. Furthermore, as the reputation of the Military Police was at stake the most effective outcome would be achieved by the two offenders being dealt with under Military law. The RSM agreed wholeheartedly with that proposal.

  The relationship between the Police and their Military counterparts was always mutually supportive and it was further strengthened by this sensible accommodation. The offenders were signed over to Military Custody and taken out through the back door. On reaching the rear yard of the station they were marched away by an escort to their transport and then driven off to face the music back at Camp.

  The following week they appeared before the Colonel of the Regiment and they were each fined one month’s wages. In addition to the fines they were declared unsuitable for service as Military Police officers. Their feet did not touch the ground as they were both posted to other Regiments in Northern Ireland. One was taken to Belfast and the other to Londonderry.

  Chapter 45 – Cry for help.

  Another incident involving squaddies was a lot more humorous and is an example of how daft they can be when faced with a dare. Late one Saturday evening an elderly gentleman came to the front counter of the Police Station to report that he had heard a male voice shouting for help in the area of a parade of shops immediately behind the police station. A constable was duly sent along to the area of the shops to investigate.

  He listened intently at the front and rear of shops but he could hear nothing of what had been reported. He knocked on a few doors nearby but none of the residents had heard anything either. Under the circumstances there was no way of taking the matter forward.

  The following day the same phenomenon occurred and it was duly reported to the Police. Officers were again sent to investigate but they too could find nothing amiss.

  This was indeed a puzzle and more than mere coincidence. But what to do?

  Matters soon became clear around 9 am on Monday morning when Mr Norman Conquest, the owner of Little Willies Sex shop opened up his business for the day. The shop premises was a terraced house of the Victorian Two up Two down variety and on entry he saw that a large fall of soot had come from the chimney and was spread over the shop floor. Then he heard a cry for help.

  This rather spooked him so he locked the front door and ran along the street to the Police Station where he reported the matter as a burglary to the officer on the desk. The Police were back at the shop with Norman within minutes and on unlocking the front door they rushed into the premises rapidly checking downstairs and upstairs. At first they couldn’t detect any presence at all but then they too heard the cry for “Help” and they answered, ‘It’s the Police. Where are you?’

  ‘In the chimney! I’m stuck!’ came the reply.

  The Fire Brigade were summoned and on arrival they used one of their platforms which was raised to roof level to get a view down the chimney stack. On doing so they saw the face of Gunner Les Wright, Royal Artillery looking up at them.

  ‘I’m stuck. I can’t move up or down.’

  He was indeed stuck fast and there was nothing that the Firemen could do from above other than provide him with water. The Senior Fire Officer on scene held a discussion with the Police and Norman and he said that unfortunately there was only one possible solution to the problem. They would have to take down the chimney breast brick by brick. Norman had no other option than to agree and so they set about the task of carefully dismantling the chimney. On completion of the task an exhausted Gunner Wright was removed from the wall.

  He was then taken by ambulance to hospital for examination and apart from suffering from dehydration, bruised ribs and embarrassment he was well enough to be detained in Police Custody. He was kept in hospital overnight for observation after which he was taken to the Police Station for interview.

  Wright later admitted that his attempt to enter the shop was in order to steal a large selection of Porno magazines for the lads back at camp. This had come about as a result of a dare. He subsequently appeared before the Magistrates and pleaded guilty to Burglary with intent. He was fined £500 and ordered to pay Compensation of £1,000.

  Chapter 46 – Grot Competition.

  All things considered then, it came as no real surprise to Benny when he and his colleagues were called on to investigate the report of a serious assault allegedly committed by four serving soldiers as the result of a “Grot competition.”

  These were not unusual pastimes and they were the product of the warped minds of bored squaddies who would dare their colleagues to carry out some filthy task for the amusement of their mates. In the squaddie lexicon these were known as “Grot competitions” (one might also call it “amateur team building”) and typically would involve something along the lines of “I’ll bet you £10 that I can eat a turd in under a minute.�
� Thing was, those who were up for this kind of challenge and completed it, were held in high regard by the group. Dr Desmond Morris would have had fun analysing the implications of that kind of scenario!

  So it was that one morning Benny and his colleagues were briefed on the latest outrage. The previous day was a Saturday and the Town Centre had been packed with drinkers including the mass of soldiers who would pour into town (and pour out again) to drink at the few hostelries which were known as “squaddie pubs.” After closing time one group of about 8 soldiers were standing outside a fish and chip shop having there evening “scoff” when they were engaged in good natured banter with a group of local youths of almost equal number. A fun evening appeared to have been had by all.

  The conversation got around to “Grot competitions” and one of the squaddies issued a challenge to the civvies that he could eat a turd. The Gauntlet was duly taken up and the squaddie’s Champion withdrew to a dark corner to produce the necessary equipment. He was unable to do so and despite his mates rallying around to provide some kind of assistance the turd was not forthcoming from any of the parties present. Therefore the challenge was amended to ‘Bet you £20 that I can drink a pint mug full of puke in under two minutes.’

  The challenge was again accepted, the pint mug was produced and after some commendable Military/Civilian collaboration the mug was filled to capacity. One of the civilians, Brian, who was considered to be an honest broker, was chosen to hold the £20 note from each group.