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Geoff Knott - Eskdale, The Lake District, 1964
In October/November of 1964 I was a member of Watkins Patrol at OBMS Eskdale. Anyone who attended a course in that era won’t need reminding of the uphill run; the steeplechase; rock climbing practice at Ravens Crag, and the real thing at Castle Crag in Borrowdale; the cross country run; the ropes course; circuit training; and so on, so I thought I’d share some more individual memories.
On arrival, we were allocated to our various patrols, and told that each night one patrol would be on call to serve as a mountain rescue team – and Watkins was duty team for that first night. Lucky for us – and especially for any potential accident victim – there was no call-out: nor, to the best of my knowledge was there on any night during our stay.
Other members of Watkins included (if memory is correct)
1. Perry Lobb (a police cadet from Cornwall);
2. Colin ‘Taff’ Davies, (a paper-coating apprentice from Pontypridd);
3. Brook Edmunds (a police cadet from Northampton);
4. George Beardmore (an apprentice aircraft fitter from Coventry);
5. Chris Crow (from Hebden Bridge);
6. Ray ….. (a junior Aircraftsman from South Cerney);
7. Kevin ….. (a trainee bank clerk);
8. Nick Penn (self-funded);
9. Les (?) (from Liverpool or Birkenhead);
10. John Rice (another Hampshire Police cadet, from Isle of Wight).
As a Hampshire Police cadet, I had been warned by more senior cadets who had attended previously, that each day began with a run down to the burn where we would have to stand in the lower pool while an instructor removed the stone at the rim of the upper pool, allowing a stream of icy mountain water to pour over us. In the event, our course was classed as the first ‘winter’ course of the year, and we only had to submit to a cold shower. Watkins Patrol was housed in a dormitory directly above the shower block, so we only had to run upstairs or clamber up a ladder afterwards.
The solo expedition – several did not want the eggs or rice which were part of the menu provided. I happily accepted them; hard-boiled the eggs, and enjoyed an egg feast, followed by a rice pudding made by by boiling the rice with water and powdered milk.
We were trained in the method of lowering a stretcher down a sheer cliff face. I was the patient, Ray was the ‘barrow boy’, whose role was to walk backwards down the cliff, guiding and controlling the stretcher. Ropes one and three were attached to the head and foot of the stretcher; rope two was Ray’s line, and the rest of the team paid out rope according to Ray’s instructions. Half way down, Ray called for “more rope on three”: the instructor Richard Tosswill relayed the instruction as “more rope on one”. I found myself strapped immobile in the stretcher, head down.
On one expedition, in a spot near Watendlath, we met a patrol from Ullswater OBMS, one of whom was another Hampshire Police cadet, Malcolm Baird.
Four of us camped one wet and windy night near (I think it was) Eel Tarn. I was sharing a tent with Perry, and the other tent was occupied by Les and, I think, George. In the middle of the night, we were awoken by Les, shouting for us to “Come quick!”. Our tent flaps were wet and difficult to untie in a hurry, so we rolled out under the tent walls, onto wet ground. The other tent had disappeared, leaving the pair and their equipment exposed to the elements. After a brief but fruitless search we spent the rest of the night, four with all our gear, huddles in a two-man tent. Come dawn, the rain had stopped, and the missing orange tent was revealed, dimly through the morning mist, floating far out in the tarn.
Card games, usually Brag, for pennies, featured largely as the evening pastime in the dormitory, and I well remember one such. As the kitty grew, most of the players dropped out, leaving just Taf and Perry, who both kept going, and the kitty kept growing. Eventually Perry said something like ‘Let’s put an end to this: I’ll see you.’ Taf’s response was ‘I’m going to enjoy doing this to you, Perry.’ He laid down a prile of Jacks, and reached for the kitty. Perry said, ‘Hold on,’ and laid down a prile of kings.
I vividly remember the wall – around twelve feet high, a smooth face of wooden planks, and the challenge was to get the whole team up and over in a shorter time than the other patrols. Brook started the month weighing 16 stone and I was 17 stone, so we were generally expected to have no chance. But we used that weight to advantage. We almost threw the first two up, then Brook was third, I was fourth. We two stayed at the top and as the each of the others jumped we flipped them over the top of the wall. At the end of the competition we had come a close second.
For the end-of-course party, each patrol had prepared some kind of entertainment. Ours was ‘The Ballad of Eskdale Green’ – our lyrics, sung to the tune of ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’ by Paddy Roberts. Apart from a reference to ‘Healthy Life Biscuits on which we must survive’ the only lines I recall, sixty years on, were
On Sunday we go walking down to the King George Hotel.
We stand outside the public bar and inhale the beery smell.
On arrival, we were allocated to our various patrols, and told that each night one patrol would be on call to serve as a mountain rescue team – and Watkins was duty team for that first night. Lucky for us – and especially for any potential accident victim – there was no call-out: nor, to the best of my knowledge was there on any night during our stay.
Other members of Watkins included (if memory is correct)
1. Perry Lobb (a police cadet from Cornwall);
2. Colin ‘Taff’ Davies, (a paper-coating apprentice from Pontypridd);
3. Brook Edmunds (a police cadet from Northampton);
4. George Beardmore (an apprentice aircraft fitter from Coventry);
5. Chris Crow (from Hebden Bridge);
6. Ray ….. (a junior Aircraftsman from South Cerney);
7. Kevin ….. (a trainee bank clerk);
8. Nick Penn (self-funded);
9. Les (?) (from Liverpool or Birkenhead);
10. John Rice (another Hampshire Police cadet, from Isle of Wight).
As a Hampshire Police cadet, I had been warned by more senior cadets who had attended previously, that each day began with a run down to the burn where we would have to stand in the lower pool while an instructor removed the stone at the rim of the upper pool, allowing a stream of icy mountain water to pour over us. In the event, our course was classed as the first ‘winter’ course of the year, and we only had to submit to a cold shower. Watkins Patrol was housed in a dormitory directly above the shower block, so we only had to run upstairs or clamber up a ladder afterwards.
The solo expedition – several did not want the eggs or rice which were part of the menu provided. I happily accepted them; hard-boiled the eggs, and enjoyed an egg feast, followed by a rice pudding made by by boiling the rice with water and powdered milk.
We were trained in the method of lowering a stretcher down a sheer cliff face. I was the patient, Ray was the ‘barrow boy’, whose role was to walk backwards down the cliff, guiding and controlling the stretcher. Ropes one and three were attached to the head and foot of the stretcher; rope two was Ray’s line, and the rest of the team paid out rope according to Ray’s instructions. Half way down, Ray called for “more rope on three”: the instructor Richard Tosswill relayed the instruction as “more rope on one”. I found myself strapped immobile in the stretcher, head down.
On one expedition, in a spot near Watendlath, we met a patrol from Ullswater OBMS, one of whom was another Hampshire Police cadet, Malcolm Baird.
Four of us camped one wet and windy night near (I think it was) Eel Tarn. I was sharing a tent with Perry, and the other tent was occupied by Les and, I think, George. In the middle of the night, we were awoken by Les, shouting for us to “Come quick!”. Our tent flaps were wet and difficult to untie in a hurry, so we rolled out under the tent walls, onto wet ground. The other tent had disappeared, leaving the pair and their equipment exposed to the elements. After a brief but fruitless search we spent the rest of the night, four with all our gear, huddles in a two-man tent. Come dawn, the rain had stopped, and the missing orange tent was revealed, dimly through the morning mist, floating far out in the tarn.
Card games, usually Brag, for pennies, featured largely as the evening pastime in the dormitory, and I well remember one such. As the kitty grew, most of the players dropped out, leaving just Taf and Perry, who both kept going, and the kitty kept growing. Eventually Perry said something like ‘Let’s put an end to this: I’ll see you.’ Taf’s response was ‘I’m going to enjoy doing this to you, Perry.’ He laid down a prile of Jacks, and reached for the kitty. Perry said, ‘Hold on,’ and laid down a prile of kings.
I vividly remember the wall – around twelve feet high, a smooth face of wooden planks, and the challenge was to get the whole team up and over in a shorter time than the other patrols. Brook started the month weighing 16 stone and I was 17 stone, so we were generally expected to have no chance. But we used that weight to advantage. We almost threw the first two up, then Brook was third, I was fourth. We two stayed at the top and as the each of the others jumped we flipped them over the top of the wall. At the end of the competition we had come a close second.
For the end-of-course party, each patrol had prepared some kind of entertainment. Ours was ‘The Ballad of Eskdale Green’ – our lyrics, sung to the tune of ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’ by Paddy Roberts. Apart from a reference to ‘Healthy Life Biscuits on which we must survive’ the only lines I recall, sixty years on, were
On Sunday we go walking down to the King George Hotel.
We stand outside the public bar and inhale the beery smell.