Then the ‘hardcore’ turned up!
It came from a demolished stable / G1098 store / landrover garage down in Tidworth and was full of parts of brick wall some 1 yard in diameter!
We had to break it up but couldn’t get a crusher and one of my memories of this event is of Stu, stripped to the waist, smashing the rubble with a sledge hammer in the white hot sun. We were a chain gang and the visits to the pub got longer and the work day shorter.
Eventually one of us, I can’t remember who, but as I’m writing this, I’ll claim it as me, went to the camp commandant and asked if they had a crusher. After all they stored all the army’s war reserve. They must have. They only had A class vehicles, tanks and the like. A crusher was a C class vehicle, which were in … god knows, I forget now.
But… he offered to lend us a Cent Bridgelayer without the bridge. We could drive up and down on the rubble and crush up the big bits.
Oh what fun.
I (my story right?!) jumped at the chance and Stu and Jim were agog when I drove up onto the car park rubble in a huge Centurion bridge layer.
With Rommel Goggles from the G1098 we drove up and down on the rubble all day, the cent’s tracks throwing up a huge cloud of brick dust that embedded our hair, skin and lightweights.
When the Bridgelayer ran out of fuel, we simply went to the Depot’s POL point and filled it up. The supply was endless!
It took us two weeks and a lot of brekkys, pies, beer and diesel but we managed to complete the task. The depot now had a reasonable car park with which to park their cars on muddy days.
It wasn’t until we got to Nienburg that I heard through the grapevine that we had used up nearly the entire Squadron’s yearly allotment of diesel.