28-Feb-2011

From Roger 'Shep' Shepherd

Hi, thought I would add a bit more.

The windmill has been mentioned a few times and it brings back the memories.

Wednesdays and Saturdays were the main nights for us all to go to town. The usual venue for those not in a, live in situation with the girlfriend, was the windmill. This was a restaurant that had live music but also had a "spise plickt" which meant that you had to eat.

It was not unusual for there to be around 16 of us in there, add to that 16 girls and it made a huge crowd. The restaurant was used to us and seated us together at a large table. The first round was interesting, they would take the order and not deliver until it was complete, this would comprise of about 25 beers and the rest soft. It could take up to 15/20 mins. for it to come, so as that first round was delivered the next was ordered and a smooth flow was achieved. the cheapest thing to eat was an omelette so that was the most common thing ordered. This was usually the first point of contact with the female of the species that any newcomer to the camp had. I would think that many of those that married a local girl met her for the first time in the Windmill.

Some interesting situations arose at the end of the evening. In those days the Brit. male was raised to accept that if he was out with a lady, he would foot the bill. This was the case with one slight difference. At the end of the night the bill would be presented and the sum would be divided by the number of us brits. If you were a single male it was tough luck, you would still have to pay the same as the others who had a girl in tow. Also, if you were driving and only drinking coke, it made no difference, those were the rules

There were attempts made to avoid paying. I remember the lads getting really p****ed off with the Doc. who would suddenly have the need to go to the loo every time the bill arrived. I forget who did it, but he had his fortune read to him and ceased the practice.

We all know that Norway is expensive. It was not unusual for the bill to be in the region of NKR 5,000. At this time, 1966, the exchange rate was 20 Kroner to the £ or £250.00.

If there were 16 of us it was just over £15.00 each, a lot of money in those days for one night out.

Somebody referred to trouble with the local lads. I do not remember that to be the case. If there were any problems it was usually between the brits. themselves and the usual reason was over some bird.I don't remember why but i have a picture in my mind of Solly Tarogi going horizontal over the table to stick the nut on somebody on the opposite side of the large round table.I do remember feeling that there was a pecking order amongst the girls.The CO at the time was PJO and there was a small group of girls who were part of his harem, they were the royalty and the other girls were the “ladies in waiting”.

thats it for now will continue another time.

Shep

From Les "the bat" Deacon

Click here for some memories from Les.

From Roger 'Shep' Shepherd

Wow, what a joy to find this site.
My name is Roger Shepherd. I was known as Shep until I got the nickname “Ingenting” which for those who don’t know is Norwegian for “Nothing”.
I was posted to Isjefear in December 1965 and left in Feb 68. The experience of that period has shaped my whole life.
I have always said that the staff at the camp was drawn from the misfits of the BAOR and in my case it was true.
I was stationed at Lipstadt in Germany with the 42 Med. Regt RA and hated every min. of it.
In Dec 65 I went to see the Padre and said to him that either he got me out of there or I was going over the wall. Next morning I’m up before the CO who said “I understand from the Padre that you are not happy here, I of course said yes. He had my file in front of him and said “I see you have done the course in Norway and got a good grade (a B+ I think) There is a vacancy for a driver on the staff, would you like to go? I hesitated and he shouted “WELL” I said YES SIR. This must have been about the 27th of Dec and I was on my way on the 30th.
At the age of 19 I didn’t have a clue. I was on the train up through Denmark and fortunately met another member of staff returning from leave. It was a good thing I did for when arriving at Hirtsals we found that there were no boats to Norway until the 2nd of Jan. Due to New Year. I had no money to speak of and the other bloke (I can’t remember his name) paid for us to stay at the seaman’s mission and for food etc. We caught the boat on the 2nd and duly arrived in K’sand only to find that there had been a blizzard and that the town was locked in. We stayed at the local marine base for, I think at least a week, when the road to the post office at the end of the road to camp was passable.
I was in civvies and had a pair of Army boots in my kit which upon being presented with a pair of cross country skies and poles, put on and skied into my new posting.
I can’t remember much of the first weeks but I settled in and got to know the rest of the crew.
There are so many memories of the period, who could forget “spike” the Sgt Major with stick under one arm and head tilting the opposite way. The others, Bombardier Billy Baker from Bournemouth, in charge of MT, Whiskey Way REME, Eddie Melefont Driver, Cookie Roger Duncton, PJO, Geordie Foster, driver (participant in the only fisticuffs I had in my time) Flex Robinson, Smoothie Collins, Johnny Le Page, Tom Gray, Climbing, Taffy Davies BEM, Vince Bullis ,pay corps, Solly Tarogi, Smudge smith REME, Roger Castle, Chippie, Johnny May. Scouse the climber who nearly killed me and Major Ian Blinky Leigh in 66, Wally Stokes, Mick Jenner, Big L, Pete Grey, Dolly Gearbox, Ian Babington, Mick Davey
So many stories, I think I will have to post updates in the future.
A couple of stories.
My nickname was bestowed upon me by cookie Duncton. Cookie, I think, had done some Judo, One sunny morning I was walking down from the upper bunkhouse when he jumped me from behind, I instinctively bounced him over my shoulder and he landed some way ahead of me, he picked himself up and went into the kitchen. I followed and asked if he was ok? His response was “Shepherd you are nothing, Ingenting “(he spoke some Norsk). It stuck, from that moment on I was called ingenting by everybody in the camp.

One of the most unforgettable sights at the camp was arrival day for a new course.
The students were met at the docks in K’sand, loaded into 3 tonners and driven back to camp.
The trucks stopped half way down the last hill into camp, the students got down and were introduced to Spike (Stick under one arm, head tilting opposite way, some say that this was caused by injury from a mortar incident) who welcomed them to the course and walked them down into the camp, pointing out areas of interest. At the camp he handed them over to the 2ic, now I can’t remember his name but he had a habit. This habit was that he hummed continuously. An example of this was when, in the morning, he went into the kitchen, he would ask, “Hmmm what’s for Hmmm breakfast today Hmmm cookie Hmmm?” on top of this he grew hair on his cheek bones and looked, to say the least, different. Once he had finished his spiel he handed them over to the CO who at this time was Major Leigh. Now he also had a habit. This was a continuous blinking of the eyes and he was therefore referred to as Blinky Leigh.
Imagine, if you will, the thoughts of the students, they had just arrived after a long train and boat trip and are met by a Sgt. Major with a bent neck, a 2ic who hummed between words and had hair on his cheekbones and a CO who couldn’t stop blinking. They must have been scared S**tless.
This was before the sadistic staff took over and forced them into the water to prove that they could swim.

Do you remember the world cup final 1966. I do but not for the usual reason.
There was a climbing event set to take place in the area of Kristiansund (not Sand) north of Bergen.
Myself as driver, Blinky Leigh and a climbing instructor who I only remember as Scouse, were the advance party. Scouse had been on the town the night before and said that he would like to do the first stint of driving and get some kip in when Blinky and I were driving.
We had been driving for some time and it would not be long before we changed drivers. We were approaching a long right hand curve, the roads in Norway in those days left a lot to be desired. This particular piece of road had, as you approached the start of the curve, a wide area of gravel to the right hand side of the tarmac with a drop of about 2 inches from tarmac to gravel. The width of the gravel diminished to zero as you got to the crown of the bend. At the start of the bend Scouse dropped the front wheel into the gravel and just continued driving. Both Blinky and I knew what was going on and assumed that Scouse did as well, He didn’t, as we got almost on to the crown of the bend Blinky and I looked at each other and at the same time yelled to scouse to get out of the rut, To late, we drove off the road with the land rover starting to roll to the right. To the right was a drop of about 30 feet into farm land. We should have rolled. There was a telegraph pole with a steel wire coming down from it, the left hand side of the land rover hit the wire and snapped through it. This had the effect of righting the vehicle and we landed flat on four wheels and bounced to a stop.
I owe Major Leigh my life, I was in the middle seat, AKA the death seat, and in front of the metal screen divider, he put himself across me and stopped me from hitting the metal divider. He smashed his head into the windscreen, his knee crushed the glove compartment and he hurt his little finger.
He was a dedicated climber and sadly he never climbed again. Scouse and I were not hurt, we were dragged out of the field and even managed to drive the Land rover back to K’sand. I see from this site that he has passed away, God bless him, may he rest in peace.

That’s enough for now, when I write another piece I will talk about the social side of things.
If anybody remembers me and would like to get in contact,
My E-mail is:- roger.shepherd2 @btinternet.com

Stay well

Shep
 

From Bob Richardson-Aitken

I have read with great interest the Isefjaer web site and thought that someone might be mildly interested in my recollections of a very enjoyable visit to the Outward Bound Centre.
In 1962 or 63 I was sent with a small detachment of soldiers from the Welch Regiment; we had been stationed in Berlin since 1961 and had been involved in excitements that surrounded the building of the infamous Wall. So far as I can recall I was the second officer from the Regiment to be sent to Norway for this form of training.
We travelled on the Military Train from Berlin and staged overnight in Bielefeld before moving on by bus to a Danish Army barracks where we spent a second night. On the third day we took the ferry to Kristiansand. where we were met in the blue three tonner for the last stage of the journey to Isafjaer. At the camp we were met by a major whose name I forget but who was, I think, a Royal Welch Fusilier and was the Officer Commanding.
The camp was very different from the photographs on the web site in that it was entirely tented with the exception of a small wooden office. The tented site was on the hill and was shared with all ranks. We were issued with Compo ration packs and these remained our source of sustenance throughout our time. The incessant rain rendered the tented area a pretty miserable place to live as a stream passed between and sometimes through the tents. On the first work morning we were paraded and took a swimming test in the very cold water of the fjord. This was followed by a briefing and then we were divided into three courses: Trekking, Canoeing and Sailing. I was asked which of the three I preferred and since I had my own boat in the UK and had sailed for Sandhurst I opted for sailing. I feel that I can now admit that I omitted to mention that I was able to sail; I also put in some mistakes to add veracity to my story of learning from scratch.
We spent the first week or so learning the basics of sailing using a wooden sailing dinghy called an RN 14. We were well instructed in basic boat handling, coastal navigation, safety and seamanship. Having passed a test we were given the details of our task.
So far as I can remember our little expedition party consisted of about ten men; these were mostly from my own regiment but there were two RASC drivers as well. We were presented with two traditional Norwegian sailing boats called Sjectys (spelling is probably wrong) and into these we put all our kit plus several days of rations. We were given a series of tasks to complete and these required us to sail out into the Skagerrak and then to sail north west along the coast in the direction of Oslo. Along the route small parties (3 or 4) were put ashore and were required to conduct simple military reconnaissance tasks ( Is the rail tunnel at GR123654 suitable to store armoured vehicles?) before rejoining the boats further along our route.
We were fortunate in so far as I had sailed before and on of the RASC drivers had served in a Maritime Squadron and was a very handy chap to have along. In addition to the 'military tasks' we were required to find our rations that were pre dumped in various locations in land and, therefore required careful map reading to find, There were some very amusing incidents along the way and I lost one Welch Regiment corporal who fell in love and was not keen to return to soldiering (it all worked out in the end.)
As a result of the kindness and hospitality of the Norwegian people and in particular the girls we got a little behind schedule; to make up time we managed to obtain a tow from a passing small freighter and arrived back at base with minutes to spare. We had been away for two weeks and were required to produce daily logs and a final report. There may have been some mild exaggerations in the report but it was well received and we got our grades.
The other groups (Trekking and Canoeing) did not have nearly so much fun and they definitely worked a great deal harder than us.
I believe that the Sailing courses ceased that year which was probably wise if a little bit sad.
Bob Richardson-Aitken
Colonel (Retd) 6th Queen Elizabeth's Own Gurkha Rifle.
sometime
2nd Lieutenant The Welch Regiment

From Keith “Ginger” Evans

It was little LePage that came with me in the car over the cliff...it was a
very small car, he was the only one that would fit, either him or Roger
Duncton  and he refused point blank to do it!

I was in charge of the diving then and I wanted to put a car in the fjord
to have something to work on. I bought the car from a scrap yard and one of
the Land Rovers towed me to the point where the track started going down hill
then we set off on our own. I had tied a 45 gallon drum to the roof so it
would float.

Unfortunately, the brakes on the car gave up the ghost and we went
down that track like a rally car, the Land Rover couldn't keep up. I had
intended to fly off the cliff at a particular point but we were going so fast we
shot off at the first bend and another 30 feet higher.

PJO was in Maria with his camera set up and pointing at the spot we were supposed to jump off.

The first he knew of our arrival was when he heard the splash behind him.
Unfortunately, we landed on our roof, the barrel shot off, the roof caved in and the
windows smashed. We sunk like a stone and the doors wouldn't open, it was
also a very small car, not much room to manoeuvre, at least the water shut
Le Page up, poor bugger was sat in the back! We were well under the water before I
managed to push the door open, I had to drag poor little LePage out, He
couldn't speak to me for several days, I don’t blame him.

I got into a lot of trouble over that.
I think PJO was more furious with me for missing his photo than driving off
the cliff. Happy memories!!

Do you remember the death slide, I built that. It was up for several weeks
before anyone else used it, I am quite proud of that, as far as we could
ascertain, it was the biggest in the world, it was certainly fast, the first time
I used it the Karabiner was worn almost all the way through and glowing red,
as I came to a halt, the sling I was hanging on melted through and I dropped
into the fjord. I got a pulley after that.
I have loads of little stories that may interest you, if you are interested.
One more quickie, do you remember my pet seagull? I ate his mum on survival
island, I spent the rest of the time feeding that rather than myself. I took
it back to camp and it stayed with me for over a year. It didn't  win too many
friends though, it used to fly into the dining tent, land on the  tables and
help itself off everyone's plates, he flew off one morning and never  came
back...although I have my suspicions, I think there was a  conspiracy!!

Night Duty Memories (Ed)

The night duty involved staying up all night manning the telephone in case of an emergency and getting the Met. Report, plus waking everyone up on time in the morning. It meant staying up for 24 hrs. then a full days work to follow. Of course everyone fell asleep doing it! I woke with a start one morning, head on desk, and mis-read the time by an hour. I rushed to wake up Charlie “Jock” Deveney (Duty Driver) to tell him to go and wake up the Boss in his cabin, up the fjord, which he did. I woke all the camp an hour early, they all got up until eventually they realised it was an hour too early. The boss came into the office in a foul mood; he had already put Charlie on a charge for waking him too early. I explained it was my fault, so he told me to put myself on a charge. Several others were charged, I don’t know what for.

I went back to him and said I did not know how to put myself on a “Charge”! He said well ask the others who are on a charge!

So I did, but none of them seemed to know how to do it!  The whole thing was dropped in the end, too much paperwork! Ha!

We were “Outward Bounders” not clerks!

I just got a telling off from the boss after he had calmed down! I think I got a few extra Night Duties as well!

I remember Charlie saying that one night when he was on night duty the telephone rang and he found himself standing on the desk at attention, to answer it!

From Norman (Mac) Mackay

I was yet another "Mac" who was an instructor at Isefjaer 1966 - 1967. I was
a climbing instructor during this period.
Fond memories of Dave Eastwood, Ken Robson,John May, Geordie Gray, and many
others.
I was the first RMP member to be an instructor at 1 BR Corps Outward Bound
Centre... And took a good deal of stick from Dave Eastwood....

They were good times, and I have fond memories of my time spent at Isefjaer.
Great nights at the "Windmill" in Kristiansand's, and quite a few punch ups
with the locals, usually over the girls. Soli Tarogi was always in the
shadows, looking out for us..

I managed to spend a summer at Ullswater Outward Bound School in the lake
district as an instructor, courtesy of the boss, Major Leigh. My contacts
inform me that he has since passed away. Great boss, and had a sense of
humour too.

I went on to spend time with the Gurkhas, and had a try at selection at
Hereford in the late sixties. I left the British army in 1973, and went
directly into the New Zealand army as an instructor at Papakura camp.
I did two years service with the NZ army , and left for civilian life.

I joined Air New Zealand in 1979, and spent some 22 years with them. The
last ten years as a Chief Purser on the international routes. I met my wife
Barbara, who was an air hostess with the airline. Barbara went on to become
a Purser, and we travelled the world together for our entire career with Air
New Zealand. She was my 2ic on the 747-400's
I left the airline at the end of 2000, and retired early.

I'm nearly 62, and spent 30 years running every day until I was 57.
I'm one kilo heavier than I was at Isefjaer in 1967..
I've been married to a New Zealander for 27 years.
I live in a beautiful home in the southern alps region of New Zealand, where
we have glaciers all round us.
Summer can be 35C, and winter can be -10C. We live 2,000 ft above sea level,
in the mountains which I have always loved. I still find time to get into
the mountains with my dog.

Any ex members of 1 BR Corps Outward Bound Centre who remember me, can email
me at - watchdog@xtra.co.nz
Or - Skype - Norman Mackay

Kind regards to all ex members..

Norman Mackay ( Mac )

From Peter Hill

Never mind the staff what about us poor bastards who were tortured by the Gestapo who called themselves Staff..
 
I was told that is was going to be a nice holiday pleasant walks around the mountains
Some canoeing in the fjords plenty to drink friendly natives what more could you ask for.
Well we spent a day and a half getting there from Germany  I think I don't remember much about the journey I was drunk most of the time and when you passed out you were put in the luggage rack so you would not get in the way of the others who were still drinking. When we arrived the first thing we had to do was get into our pyjamas, great we thought sleep at last! Not so it was 8 O'clock in the morning and we were made to jump into the freezing cold water in the fjord and swim 50 metres or so, my body went into shock and the survival instinct kicked in and some how I made it not a nice way to sober up, Welcome to Isefjaer.
 
 
So if anyone else was there the same time as me 16 June 69  to 4 Jul 69 please get in touch and we can plot our revenge on the staff. I had one of them stay with me a while ago Bev Doughty I let him go but I know where he lives.
 

From Ivor (Mac) Macsorly

On arrival at Kristiansand we were met at the ferry terminal by the
two, blue, three ton trucks with fierce looking guys like Martin
(Jock) Jones and were told, no swearing, no smoking, no whistling at
women and anyone who did would have to do 20 press ups.

After half an hour screaming along rough Norwegian roads (gravel
tracks), we were plunged into the fjord at Isefjaer to swim 50 metres,
if not done, immediate RTU!

For the next fortnight it was non stop PT, First Aid, ASA gold award,
RLSS Bronze Award, Inland Canoe Cert. finishing with canoe expedition
in canvas PBK 18 double kayaks which had no back rests.

 I will never forget my "Dolphin" (to the island and back) swim, which
on the way back,  my instructor who was escorting me in a kayak told
me when I got cramp in my left leg that I had three other limbs and to
get on with it, and I did, thank you Martin Jones.
 After the canoeing, it was up to Gautestadt and abseiling and
climbing on a rock face beside a main road. Why there were not any
accidents with drivers being suddenly confronted by people appearing
to throw themselves off a cliff onto the main road, I don't know!

The memories are still with us all, on going back to our units in
Germany we all felt like Supermen.

I thought I would remind you of the last "Survivor Island" course
which was in June 1966, after which the powers to be thought it was
too dangerous for guys to be stuck on an island for 4 days with
nothing.

Ed.(The island was surrounded by Portugese-man-o'-war jelly fish, so
there was no escape.)

From Ivor (mac) Macsorly

Winter Course 1967

 The winter course started by being met at the ferry again by the same
two blue three tonners which transported us to Trout Hall at
Gautestat, not far from the Norwegian Infantry depot at Evje.

 Our main Instructor was a Norwegian Army Captain, who was a
Laplander, and had at one time been attached to a Scottish Battalion
and his English contained a lot of "F" words!
He skied on slim norskie cross-country skis and always had a Bergen on
which seemed three times his size.

Our skis were what we called NATO planks which some of us had already
seen at Silberhutte STC in the Hartz in Germany.  There were also
British Army Instructors assigned to each six man patrol and we had to
compete against each other.
This consisted of ski races, pulk races and snow shoe races. The pulk
is a kind of sledge which is pulled by two men in
traces, on which all your rations and fuel and the necessities of life
are carried, including your reindeer skin on which you place your army
sleeping bag to sleep on. (There was still raw meat on the skins!)

 Six' o'clock in the morning meant a mile run down hill and then back
up to Trout Hall for breakfast. The final 50 metres of the run was
through a cloud of smoke from the vehicles which were running to
defreeze them and every one had a coughing fit and a good spew.

 The first week we went round a 10 km. cross country course and we all
got proficient at herring boning and snow ploughing with the steel
framed army original Bergen on our backs.
It was hammered home to us how important things like, weather
forecasts, being in the tree line, what a proper whiteout was,
avalanches, forming camp at 1500 hrs and the teamwork, like one man
making a brew, one man cutting branches for a floor, etc.   The Six
P's.
"Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance."

I was lucky to be in the patrol which won all the competitions and we
were delighted to receive a huge box of fresh rations, as we were
living on ten man packs.
 We did a four day expedition at the end which consisted of a circular
tour across a lake and difficult map reading with everything under
deep snow.
At the finish of the course we were all congratulated by Col. Vigt who
had been in the Norwegian Resistance during the Second World War,
which was a great honour for us.