Secret Squirrel

by Secret Squirrel

  I began by driving sensibly between home and the College, not exceeding the speed limit, saving wear and tear on the car and, of course, travelling as economically as possible. I was endeavouring to achieve forty miles per gallon and forty miles per pie. Yes, I would shove a steak pie in my mouth every forty miles. By doing this journey twice per week you would know every landmark in both directions and also know if you were running 30 seconds late. By increasing my average speed, I found that I could save valuable time travelling and that it was worth the extra cost in fuel and it had the added advantage of quicker pie consumption.

  I loved my job and I really got stuck into researching my subjects, particularly the really academic subjects such as chemistry and radioactive materials. I tried to simplify what I had learned to the students. My credibility and reputation were on the line as well as the College’s. You were in the shop window for opportunities with other authorities as your reputation grew. It was an opportunity for you to really advance your knowledge as you were virtually in full-time education. Additionally, the exchange of information and new ideas that you gained from meeting a great variety of people from different countries inspired you to strive to do better or convinced you that you were on the right track. You were also competing with your fellow instructors for developing informative, inventive and humorous speaking. We used to often travel to Oxford in the evenings to attend debates. Another aspect that I was particularly keen on was to develop an armoury of verbal warfare. You would often get students who didn’t want to be at the College, or were embarrassed, or who just wanted to embarrass the speaker or ‘knock the system’. You could not hit the individual who was trying to insult you or disrupt events – but you could severely verbally mug them. I became very good at this. When a student made an attempted smart or humorous remark and the class were helpless laughing, I used to sit down, wait until they were finished laughing and then say something like: “Do you have any idea how many times I have heard that, you’re now going to be severely embarrassed and wished you had never said that, so be sympathetic class to him when I tell you…” If someone ever did come up with something original I would give them credit, thank them for their viewpoint and laugh with the rest of the class; I really enjoyed the mental gym. My work was very important to me and came absolutely first.

  I particularly enjoyed my research into respiratory physiology, which brought me into contact with some eminent physiologists in that field from UCLA, California, USA. and I met many times a new breed of scientist practising sports physiology. However, when all of my preparation was completed, including helping other members of staff who were struggling, I felt justified in playing hard. After competing for the staff in swimming galas, football matches, volleyball, quizzes and other challenges, end of course drinking and eating, there was little time left for yourself.

  One other challenge to my personal time came about because of other staff’s comments to students. During the introduction session of every course, the College rules and regulations were read out, including beware of ladies bearing free gifts (to discourage free spirit and trouble). Often students would be absent from the College due to spending a night with the vision of their dreams. Now they could be lying in a ditch somewhere, so we had to do roll calls and if no firm information was forthcoming as to their whereabouts, they were marked absent and their brigades were informed and invariably they were sent home, sometimes busted in rank and their marriage severely damaged. Sometimes offspring were involved and sometimes the free gifts previously mentioned necessitated a visit to the doctor and then STD clinics. Sometimes students were afraid to go home for obvious reasons. Having read out the blacklist of warnings it was stated that these were no reasons to stop you enjoying yourselves. Then staff went on to deliver a challenge: “We have this guy here who can out-eat and out-drink anybody.” Thanks. So, the challenges came flooding in. I used to think that perhaps I would end up with a coronary just to amuse others, then I realised that I was having a wonderful free feed. I never did lose. I was once asked how many sausages I wanted with my mixed grill and I replied “28”, which I got and consumed. We used to have a great block of cheese on the staff table served on a bed of lettuce; it was all silver service you see. The block of cheese was about a foot long (30cm) by four inches (100mm) by two inches(50mm) thick. It resembled sunlight soap. Nevertheless, I would cut a piece of about one inch from the end and then stick my knife in the remaining eleven-inch piece, transfer it to my plate and eat it. I was insatiable.

  One place that was considered a must for ALL students to visit was the infamous Ugly Bugs Ball. This was held on a Tuesday evening at the local football club. It really was an institution and did the bank balance of the place no harm at all. The place was full of characters, including one particular local woman who demonstrated strange movements on the dancefloor. She was known as the ‘praying mantis’ for more reasons than one. But, alas, many succumbed to the ‘scrumpy’ bad head. Visitors to the College, including eminent government figures, had heard of the venue and many had asked to visit this institution. I remember taking one Dutch officer to enjoy the delights on offer. After many pints of local ale, he became quite vocal. One of the local women took a fancy to him and she made her approach and began chatting him up. He looked at her as if he had just drunk some cream, which had gone sour and he exclaimed, “Madam, you have the breath of a lion.”

  The College dining room accommodated all 650 students plus staff with 28 people per table. Members of staff who dined in the dining room were expected to maintain discipline and a dress code in the dining room. Not all officers were gentlemen. One evening there was a severe disturbance at one of the tables and I went over to investigate. When I reached the offending table, I was confronted by several officers who had got up out of their seats and where holding their stomachs and retching. Perhaps we have a serious case of food poisoning, I thought. “What seems to be the trouble?” I enquired. One of them replied, “It’s that dirty bastard over there.” What had happened was that the waitresses had delivered tureens of sweetcorn and placed them on the tables. This individual had been bragging about his exploits with a woman that he had met the night before. He was having sex with her when she tapped him on his shoulder and asked if he would be good enough to give her one up the shit locker, which he duly obliged. It was afterwards when he went for a pee, that he noticed that wedged into the crack of his penis was a piece of sweetcorn. It was at this point that one of his fellow diners had removed the lid of the tureen to reveal the sweetcorn, causing the reaction of his fellow diners.

  On another occasion there was a formal dining night taking place and I found out that many of the students did not wish to attend. This was mainly due to the fact that they had planned to visit a local watering-hole. I explained to them that this dine-in was considered as part of their course and introduced them to dining etiquette at formal occasions. This did nothing to encourage them, therefore I said to them, “If you are asking me if you have a choice as to whether or not you attend, the answer is no. You will attend.” Prior to the meal I noticed that many were not formally dressed, so I went over to them and informed them that the College had a twenty-minute rule; if they were seen to be uncooperative and considered not to be taking part, then I could give them twenty minutes to pack all their stuff together and then be escorted off the College premises. A letter would then be sent to their Chief. This, of course, would have serious repercussions for their future careers. They all about turned and dashed back to their rooms to change. Another more daring group, after listening to a prior explanation of the required dress code, marched into the dining reception room wearing jackets and bow ties but no trousers. I thanked them for the laugh and allowed them to take a seat at the dining table, which happened to be simulated leather, with all the discomfort that would come from sitting for over two hours with bare skin on sweaty PVC. We used to have regular Queen’s nights (referring to Q.E) and it was unusual if students did not enter the dining r
oom holding their wrists in a limp position and speaking with a lisp.

  Overseas courses presented more of a challenge as some of them did not eat anything like English food, nor were they used to using cutlery. We ended up making special dining arrangements for them after one of them was caught cooking on a primus stove on the carpet in the middle of his study bedroom. The wailing that ensued at five o’clock in the morning caused particular problems. Often there were disagreements which involved knives. Some well-heeled oil-rich country students would buy flash cars and T.Vs and think nothing of heading off to London without informing College staff. Disciplinary measures had to be relaxed because of diplomatic relations and the fact that they brought in substantial College income. Some students would kindly take some of the overseas students home with them during weekend breaks. At least this ensured their presence back at the appropriate times. If a student did not return on time, this had to be immediately investigated, as they could be lying injured in a ditch somewhere. Often this happened due to a student meeting a girl of his dreams and staying the night for a game of backgammon and not thinking about how he would manage to return to the College on time. I have used the masculine here, but on occasions, female students have transgressed. I once witnessed a female control staff student from a Course who had developed a long friendship with a male student. An overseas course began a couple of weeks into their Course and the female took a fancy to one of the new arrivals. When her current friend went home for the weekend, she stayed and entertained the new student. One Sunday evening, I saw the two of them hiding in between some coat racks and she was giving him a blow job. When they disembarked, who should she bump into but her previous boyfriend returning back to the College from the weekend break and they duly commenced a game of tonsil tennis. I hadn’t the heart to tell anyone until now. I have often wondered if the unsuspecting victim noticed any unusual taste.

  The courses at the College were really good. Technical input was given in the classroom followed by practical exercises on the airfield. We had roadways, including a short motorway, railway lines with real trains, a concrete and metal ship with water surround, including docks, a chemical plant, complete with oil storage tank, aircraft and buildings which could simulate all types of usage. On the roadways we could simulate all types of vehicles collisions. We used to buy in all types of vehicles and arrange collisions using fork-lift trucks, sledge hammers and a bit of ingenuity. We often had ‘live’ casualties using course students or members of a casualty union. Some students would play tricks on their colleagues by filling their mouths with vegetable soup and releasing it at the appropriate moment. The exercises were just about as realistic as possible, within safety limits. We used to hide several simulated bodies inside buildings, often water-soaked to increase the weight. When I say hide, we would make the location as challenging as possible, then set the venue on fire with lots of smoke to achieve zero visibility. Students would of course be wearing full firefighting kit and breathing apparatus with all of the inherent physical limitations. Then we would send in the troops to find them. I was particularly intrigued one day when I sent in a group of Scandinavian officers to a particularly challenging exercise. Ten simulated casualties were strategically placed throughout a building over three floors. On a good day, I would expect to see the first casualty brought out after about twenty-five minutes, with about six by the end of the exercise at sixty minutes. To my amazement, the first casualty was brought out after five minutes, three after ten and all of them in less than twenty-five minutes. Usually at debriefs with home students, I would be asking them how many of the rescued casualties would probably still be alive and how many would just be recovered. On this occasion, I was asking, how did they do it? It turns out that they attended ‘blind school’ for a period of time. They joined blind pupils, and were themselves blind folded throughout their time there, learning techniques in awareness of surroundings. Just to re-assure the British public, they worked to no rules, while we in Britain had to follow stringent health and safety procedures. Nevertheless, it did make me wonder if there could be a procedure between the two extremes that could work. I really enjoyed working at the College, passing on as much information as I could to all students. This environment created competitiveness throughout, where individuals could measure themselves against their peers and I am convinced that this opportunity was responsible for raising standards throughout the Fire and Rescue Services.

  During my many visits to local watering holes I obviously became a regular face and the local populace either thought that I was on a very long course, or I had moved there. No, they all knew exactly who was who. This became evident one evening when I was approached by an extremely petite, attractive and very posh lady. She said, “I say my young man, I’ve heard that you come from the north of England and that you travel home each weekend, is that correct?” I replied with the affirmative. Then she asked me if I would be good enough to drop her off at a location approximately one hour south of my home. This I agreed to do and I duly picked her up from her home the next Friday afternoon. We had a good chat on the journey north and she told me that the purpose of her trip was to visit an old aunt and exercise her horses for her. As we approached Scotch Corner, she informed me that I needed to take the next exit heading north-west. This detail had never been mentioned before and I was not very amused at the extra time that was obviously going to be involved as I had a fight arranged that evening. I grumbled and carried on to a very nice location, which was to figure in my future plans, although I did not know it at that time. The detour was to cost me an extra hour in travelling time plus an extra hour on the return journey. When we got back to her place she said that she was extremely grateful and then said, “Goodnight.” When I managed to return to the College for the last pint of the evening, I was quizzed as to what reward I had received, as she was quite tasty. Nobody believed me when I stated the truth that nothing had happened. By the way, I won the fight and had a few extra bank notes to spend in my pocket.

  Everything was going well until I received some disturbing news from home. You remember the Magician? Well he was obviously missing me and he had developed the bad habit of calling around to my house to see if my wife needed anything. Then there was this other individual who was trying to locate me and threatening to blow my house up to get my attention. These situations I did not need, so I arranged for cover for my College teaching sessions and made an overnight journey back to the north east to surprise these two characters at an unsociable hour. Let us say the result of our discussions was an amicable parting of our relationships. The Magician, I heard, began frequenting churches to recruit his female needs at which he was surprisingly successful. I suppose the odds were better in the Lord’s house than night clubs and he was not fussy as to what his prey looked like.

  The longer I worked at the College, the more attractive women seemed to appear to work there. One or two of them suggested that we should meet up for a drink or that I should call around their place. I thought that maybe these Cotswold women do a lot of etchings and that they are itching to show me them. I decided that I would stick to the three that had asked me to be in the College pantomime first. The most attractive one who also showed the most enthusiasm became my first conquest. I went around to her house and she couldn’t wait to get me up to her bedroom. I called her the ‘Flautist’ because all she seemed to want to do was play me like a flute. She was very good and very gentle. After that home visit, having got to know her better, I began to visit her office more frequently in the mornings for coffee. She was insatiable and liked to be screwed over her desk. One morning her boss came to her office and we dashed into the file room. This place was a real feat of engineering as these huge metal filing cabinets, which stood from floor to ceiling and were very heavy, could be moved with very little effort by a finger. There were lots of them and they could be moved about to form a maze, which is what we did to her boss. He knew we were in there, but couldn’t find us; she did not like to
have her sex interrupted.

  At the performance of this pantomime, by the way, which had a Fire Brigade flavour, she played the daughter of a Divisional Officer who came around to a fire station where his daughter was in love with fireman Dick Whittington. Now, the Division Officer could not have his daughter cavorting with a mere fireman, so he determined to move fireman Whittington to another fire station far away. Let us consider that the audience consisted of about four hundred and fifty hairy-arsed firemen who were delighting in taking the piss. So, when the sad damsel complained to her father about sending her lover fireman Whittington away and pleaded for his return, her father gave an emphatic “No.” Her next line was, “Oh father you know how fond I am of Dick!” There was uncontrollable laughter and when it died down, she ad-libbed, “I mean Richard.” Then a voice from the audience shouted, “You were right the first time!”