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One morning in October of ’39 a number of us were asked if we would like to report to the Parade Ground for instruction in riding a motor bike and becoming Despatch Riders (DON R’s). I reported along with the other friends and we were shown the controls etc of a BSA 350cc.

When it came to my turn I kick started the bike and set off round the parade ground. The Sgt. Instructor motioned me to go round once again. At the end of this circuit he signalled me to stop. However I opened the throttle the wrong way and accelerated instead of slowing down!

There was a pile of sand, gravel and a cement mixer near where everyone was standing. I managed to avoid the group and the cement mixer but the bike keeled over into the sand and gravel with the back wheel spraying stuff everywhere.

The Sgt. Instructor came over, switched off the engine, looked down at me lying on the ground and said “I don’t think you will make a despatch rider son!” Highly embarrassing in front of my mates!!

This however turned out to be another spot of good fortune for me, as when the Germans broke through in April of 1940 they had a habit of stretching wire about a foot high between trees on those straight French roads and several DON R’s were either killed or injured if they hit the wire at speed when carrying a message to HQ on an early misty morning run!

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