The article about Herefordshire took my memory back for fifty years - when I, a born Londoner, found myself posted from initial training to the 2nd Bn of the Herefordshire Regt and then directed to '"Y" Company.
I'd never heard of the Regiment but I soon learned that it had been a Territorial Bn caught up by the outbreak of war while at summer camp. I was told that HQ Company had been formed in Hereford itself and the other 4 companies - W, X, Y, Z - formed in different towns of rural Herefordshire - my company - Y - in Ledbury. So, although I'd never been to Ledbury, nor have I since, I acquired an affection for the place, simply because of the pride and pleasure displayed by that most likeable lot of young men from Ledbury. By that time the Company was already being diluted by people from outside the county - among them I remember 27 Jones, 5620 Jones, 6020 Jones and not forgetting 37 Evans and two Beavan Brothers. These numbers are stuck in my mind for ever, I think.
Because my civilian occupation had been as a designer in Advertising, I was soon involved in producing a detailed map of the area covered by the Company at that time between Bognor and Littlehampton. Not knowing any better, I made the map not only large but full of colour, decorated with the Hereford's lion badge and beautiful lettering for wall display, only to hear that although the good work was much appreciated, it was highly secret, because of the minefields etc. and must be kept locked away. I had a lot to learn.
Soon after that I became Company Clerk and having. the use of a typewriter, I started a "magazine". One copy only for wall display. First issue was quite crude, but it soon developed a character. It was called "Y Worry", and was well supported, uncovering much unsuspected talent, in writing and drawing as well as verse. I myself managed to contribute a set of verses to every issue. A complete collection of Y Worry was eventually bound up and is now in the KSLI Regimental Museum in Shrewsbury.
The Company worked hard at their training, and with good humour most of the time. Several incidents come back to me, one concerning co-operation with the Home Guard.
Up at crack of dawn on a Sunday morning, the company had to find and "destroy" the local HG fortified strongpoint. Altnough well camouflaged, 'the place was located and surrounded, but as the Company moved in for the "kill", suddenly six heads bobbed up from the undergrowth, and six Home Guard stepped up and out, shouldered their rifles, and started to march off. From the shocked and surprised Y Company, a solitary voice was raised: "Where are you going?". The reply was tossed over a hurrying shoulder: "Home! It's dinnertime".
There was a very gloomy day that started early from our quarters in Felpham near Bognor to a bleak stretch at Pagham Beach, there to witness a demonstration of how a 2" mortar could be operated from a hand-held position, without danger to the operator. It all took a very long and very boring time to set up, and was not a success. The operator finished the demonstration with bloodied hands. So we fell in for our march back - it had seemed like a long, long day, dull haversack rations, dreary weather, wasted effort. As we marched, the universal gloom was so pronounced that the Company Sergeant Major (another Jones) finally snapped "Let's have some music". Within a minute the whole Company burst into "Cwm Rhondda' and separated into parts, "Guide me, O thou great, Jehovah" ... it was so beautifully done and so heartfelt, that over the years whenever I hear it on Sunday's "Songs of Praise" Cwm Rhondda still catches me by the throat and that evening comes back to me. But the CSM didn't approve of the choice of music.
We moved out of the county into Dorset. Never staying very long in any one place, Y Company were in Abbotsbury, Dorchester, West Bexington, Blandford Forum, Wimborne etc. and even under canvas at Bradford Down. Dorchester was an interesting billet, with Company HQ personnel housed in the skittle alley behind the Phoenix public house. But in Abbotsbury, first of our Dorset billets, Y Company was the first army contact they'd had, and it seemed like a love affair. Y Coy loved Abbotsbury, and Abbotsbury took Y Coy to its heart. The good ladies immediately got together to set up a club to provide the ever-welcome "char-and-a-wad", every evening.
There was at least one day that was fraught with anxiety. It was early in the day when a substantial draft of men took off, fully armed, for an undisclosed destination, leaving a much depleted Company. It was evening, and darkening, when the new draft arrived, fresh from their initial training. Within a short space of time, before any "sorting-out" had been done, there was an Alarm. Nobody knew how serious it was, but the new men had to be marshalled into some sort of order, and guided by the older hands, shepherded down to the beach - the famous Chesil Beach. Spread out in reasonable lines, all waited in silence. Presently a voice - not a Ledbury voice - piped up nervously "Sarn-major, what are we supposed to do?"
"Sarn-major" took a deep breath, and very kindly, very patiently, outlined the procedure in detail, which included loading the rifle, making oneself comfortable in a firing position, breathing easily, staying calm and waiting for the order to fire.
There was a pause while the rookie digested the information and then the rookie said
"We haven't any rounds, and we don't have any rifles, so what ... ".
The answer came swiftly, as we shifted our bottoms on that very hard beach, (sitting
on ammunition):
"You throw stones".
Sadly, I myself was posted away to another unit, but I have never forgotten the warmth of friendship for Y Company ... and Ledbury.