The 1963 Brighton to Ripon Saga

[billyboy]

Tartan Arrows? ... wernt they the fish wagons from Aberdeen to London?

[Energumen]

Hi Billyboy, it is over 40 years ago, but they could well have been, the mind plays games now, but I have trucks and single deckers coming into my mind, but I think the Tartan Arrow were trucks, and the single deckers were another name, all I know is they both went like shush off a shovel.

Regards
Energumen

[G-CPTN]

http://www.transportphotos.com/road/photo/VS00840

[Energumen]

Hi G-CPTN, thanks for that, I would have expected to have immediately recognised the vehicles, but 40+ years is taking it's toll on the memory, having said that, with it's forward control configuration and pantechnicon body, that may explain why I have this slight nag going on in my head about a coach.

Regards
Energumen

[G-CPTN]

I think they were 'express' carriers moving between Scotland and Southern England (or at least London).
We used to have 'County Carriers' that operated between Newcastle and Carlisle (from the County Garage). All gone now.

[Energumen]

Yes, if they were yellow and the arrow was actually tartan, I am pretty sure they were the ones.

Regards
Energumen

[G-CPTN]

From:- http://www.mremag.demon.co.uk/hpsite...Chronology.htm

1967
* Tartan Arrow parcels trains start (London-Glasgow)

[Energumen]

So, the broody Austin Champ is really struggling to close the gap and I, spoiling for another battle of words with my tormenter, decide to pull over to hasten the confrontation.

Now it was my turn to have the puerile tantrum, I leapt, well yes I could and often did in those days, yes, I leapt from the cab, grasped my beret and like a protagonist of yore, thrust it on the ground, (well the Don R's had all the gauntlets). Here was my challenge.
Have you ever been so built up for a fight, that you have actually felt disappointed, when the other party apologises or gives a reasonable excuse?.
Bod it, you know that man, you know, that one , the one in the Austin Champ, well it wasn't him. Bogger!.

Captain K, a most genial and well respected, up through the ranks, Gentleman, greeted me with his warm smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"Well Sapper", he says, "and which front are you returning from today".
Don't you just hate it when you want to be sullen and morose, and some bogger makes you laugh?.

I explain in great detail, my traumatic experiences of the day and close by telling him that I am obeying the last order and trying to catch the convoy.
"Well you are to be congratulated", says he, (this was better, a bit of praise, what a nice man). "Yes congratulations indeed, you have done so well, the convoy is at least ten miles to your rear, and what news have you of the Don R's "?.

I explained that when last seen, they were heading South Like two angry bees who had flown through a line of washing and come out bedecked in Grandfathers World War one Military attire.

I will be brief, who are you kidding?, who me?.

Well, the convoy duly became caught up with, after I had waited about forty minutes. We all had tea and set off South. The Don R's?, we came across them somewhere North of Watford.

Now, how about the London Circular, ah, indeed, that is a story for another time.

Energumen

[Energumen]

Now, I was never any good in London and that has not changed to this day.

However, I was not the Shepherd, the modern day equivelant of whom, do not carry crooks, but rather, carry 'pips', and are crooks.
No that was not true, but it just came into my head. Seemed funny to me.

So this sheep in Olive green steel and canvas attire, is faithfully tagging on to the end of this noisy gas guzzling chain of similarly housed humanity, as each with their own thoughts, they roar, clank and crack their way through the shadowy streets of the Capital, in that half light that signals a new dawn.

It is at this time, that I, always thinking myself 'the wit', happened to spot a Metropolitan Police Officer, swathed in his cloak and with the reflection of our passing headlights, playing little dancing patterns on the chrome of his helmet badge. Well, could I keep my tongue between my teeth ?, so to speak.
Well actually, yes, but only because I needed it there to whistle the theme to Dixon of Dock Green. You know the one; dah de dah - de dah de dah- de dah de dah dah- dah dah dah dah. then it came loose, as I shouted, 'Evening All'. Then, "have you got the time Mr. Policeman", we had slowed to a crawl, as the 'pips' studied the 'charts'. Well I was only young. Would I be that silly today? You bet.

Good old boy, he waved and took it in good part.

The dawn fully unravels and the road sweeps are out, the Daily Mirror vans are flying round disgorging bundles of papers every so often, without stopping. (how did they do that?, there must have been two of them).
I digress.
So London is awaking to a new day, and we are still about 55 miles from home, I say about, because, just then I thought, this street looks familiar, you ever had that deja vu feeling when finding your way through an unfamiliar town?, yes?, well I had it now, as into view, not twenty yards from where I had last seen him, came a vision in dark cloak and tall helmet, standing on the opposite pavement and doing an Acadamy Award rendition of 'The Laughing Policeman'. Alright, It's not that funny. The poor bogger was absolutely hysterical as 'The pips' asked him the way and I tried to get down between the pedals with embarrassement.

We did get back to Brighton about four hours later, having had our ten minutes break every two hours.

Don't get too relieved it is over. I was in the TA for about sixteen years in total. Ha ha.

Energumen

[billyboy]

Ha ha ah.... Great stuff