13867 RGS ONA Magazine 84_v 09/01/2012 15:02 Page 6
National Service was a complete pain to most conscripts. However, I was lucky and felt very grateful to Her Majesty’s Government for posting me as dental officer to Christmas Island in the Pacific. They must have wanted to get rid of me as it could not have been further from dear old blighty, so I set off with the entreaty to make sure I got to Christmas Island by Easter and not Easter Island by Christmas. By Peter Foreman (43-50)
O
n the flight disaster struck in the form of a tap on the shoulder by the senior officer to inform me that only the cavalry wore turnups in their trousers and I should do something about it. So much for kitting myself out at Millets! What was to be done? A needle and thread were not available at most airports so I hit upon the idea of turning the trouser bottoms in over, securing them with adhesive tape and praying that it did not rain. My luck held and we then flew out across the Pacific, an ocean which seems to go on forever; I now know how Magellan must have felt! Eventually we got our first view of the island which was to be home for the next 10 months. Emerging onto the tarmac we were ushered into a hut and briefed about the island, its history, the present inhabitants and the general routine of life, not to mention the bomb. At this stage an airman came in carrying, very carefully I might add, an enormous land crab. We were informed that these would be our nocturnal companions for the rest of our stay and it would be a good idea to get our beds lifted onto orange boxes as it was very difficult to ensure that they did not venture into our sleeping accommodation, which at that time was tents sleeping three at a time.
Paradise Lost Memories of Christmas Island
6
