Thornhill July1977. This call-up was different; I was lumped together with the reservists and had nothing to do with AFV. We occupied a wooden Alpine hut behind the stores building in the shade of some trees. By now we were all old hands and we knew that to volunteer for anything was not in one’s own interests. Although we kept up a pretence of being very busy the truth was that most of the time, when we were not on duty, we spent in our billet reading books, playing cards, and doing all kinds of fun things to absorb our time. One particularly cold and lazy morning found us occupying our normal horizontal positions and doing as little as possible. One of the guys ventured outside and using bricks made a small circle on the ground. He then proceeded to break off dry branches from the nearby trees and started a fire in the brick circle. Soon the fire had matured into a healthy inferno and some of us were drawn to its warmth. We stood around the flames and told war stories as our bodies slowly thawed. One of the chaps then proceeded to toss an empty can of Shield under arm deodorant spray into the fire. “What the hell did you do that for?” Someone muttered after a couple of seconds of contemplation. “It was empty!” The culprit stood with his hands buried deep in his combat jacket, he was happy with his answer. The rest of us had our doubts as to the sanity of his reply. Everyone started to stroll away, gaining speed as the seconds ticked by. The inevitable dull explosion flung burning embers far and wide. We quickly returned to the scene and returned the smoking wood to the brick circle, and soon the fire was as big as it was before. It was not long and the highest ranking among us, a sergeant no less, spoke up. “C’mon guys, let’s liven up the possy a bit.” He disappeared into the billet and returned with a 500ml aerosol can of Doom insecticide. “Still about half full.” He grinned as he shook it. “You’re not serious!” One voice squealed nervously. “Yup, I am. Stand back guys.” The sarge threw the can into the midst of the flames. We all took off at great speed and took up vantage points at our windows in the billet. We waited. Nothing was happening. Some guys, disappointed, drifted off towards their beds to resume their reading and card games The explosion rattled our louvered windows. Dust and debris was all we could see outside. We ran outside and in despair watched as a mushroom cloud slowly billowed into the blue sky. There was smoking embers everywhere. The bricks were scattered and ‘ground zero’, where the fire had been was virgin earth. We sprang to work putting out small fires and clearing up the evidence expecting security to pitch up at any moment. Like naughty kids we took shelter in the billet and waited for the worst. Half an hour later a high revving jeep raced through the trees towards us. An out of breath corporal, resplendent in his blues, sprinted to our door and flung it open. “Did you guys hear an explosion?” “An explosion?” The sarge echoed with a frown on his forehead. We all looked at each other over the top of our books and magazines. We shook our heads. “Nah, didn’t hear a thing. Sorry.” “Thanks.” The corporal shouted over his shoulder as he hurried back to his jeep. He was hardly out of earshot when we nearly brought our billet down with our laughter. The strange explosion at Thornhill remains to this day, a mystery.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 18:52:21 +0000
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