At Caledonia I can remember taking all the doorknobs off the instruction block doors one night and the chaos in the morning; When there was an IRA alert, having to do patrols around the perimeter with empty rifles and a few of us going down to the road behind the factory one night smashing the lights above the road and ambushing the patrol. Trouble was one escaped and ran or should I say flew down the road to the guardhouse shouting at the top of his lungs while we raced back to bed; I remember the chap from the borstal school who was on the expedition with us he had alopecia. Installing the new footbridge across the river in Glen Coe, the bridge had been prefabricated largely by the 'chippies', I think, in the factory. Dance patrol for one of the dances that we put on and one of the Naffi girls asking me to escort her back to her quarters as part of my duties. She then insisted that as a further part of my duties I had to kiss her goodnight. Well every man has to do his duty I suppose. After we had been kissing for a while she said 'I'm no a camel', 'What', I replied, To which she hissed 'I'm no a camel, the bumps are on the front'. That was above and beyond the call of duty and I wished her goodnight, honest! While on the Dartmouth Squardon, HMS Tenby one of our sailors drew a knife on me in Malta, I was shot at in Tunis and had a rugged run ashore in Genoa. We also borrowed some bikes for a camping expedition to St Pauls Bay in Malta. That was quite an expedition and my bike did not fare well and the Maltese police were apparently looking for me for 'demanding by menace'. All I wanted was some beer from the Frontenera Water ski club from which we had been asked to leave earlier on a Sunday night.