After a few false starts, that included a 4am arrival at Brize Norten, only to be told to go away as there was no plane for us, we eventually set off to Southampton early one morning as we were going to Belize by ship. Can you imagine what it was like as we went past the docks looking at all the big cruise liners. "Look at the size of that one!" or "I wonder how many swimming pools it's got?" We were all up for it now.

But we didn't get on a liner, we just went on for ever through the docks until we got to what looked like an unseaworthy rust bucket by the name of Sir Galahad. You can imagine our faces when we were told to get on board as this was it! Even worse was when we found out a few hours later that evening, that it would take at least two weeks to get to Belize! I don't remember the first five days as I and a few others suffered chronic sea sicknes. Anyone who has been on an LSL will know what I mean.

Two weeks and 4 days later, via a short stop in Kingston Jamaica, we arrived off the coast of what was then, British Honduras. The port of Belize was not deep enough to take the ship so we had to drop anchor about a mile off shore. Some barges then came out and the first off was a detachment of Royal Engineers. Then the next one took the RAF Regiment personell. Just as our draft were about to alight the ship, a loud voice shouted out " WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU LOT ARE GOING, SOMEONES GOT TO UNLOAD THE SHIP! "

That was that then. It took us three days working 12 hour shifts to unload that damn boat. It was loaded from the top deck right down to the lower hold that was full of ammo and what seemed a never ending amount of 105mm shels. As a skinny 17 year old it was hard work. The only relaxation we has was some swimming off the back of the boat until someone saw a shark, and that was the end of that.

We all eventually got off the ship and went to Airport Camp, where we were assigned to our resective companies. I remember my name being called out, " WRIGHT, 1 COMPANY. " "Where is that?" I asked. "UP COUNTRY, YOU GET THE 4 TONNER OUT IN THE MORNING. " So that was it, straight up to Oakburn, then after some acclimitisation, it was into the jungle. It was about a month later that we returned, and I was able to get a decent look at where I was.

Those of you that have been there will remember all the local haunts, and the Big C was going then. Far too young to have gone in there. We lived on $25 a week I think, but I always remember that Coca Cola was more expensive than the rum. Also the local Ciggys (Independance) were awful. Did all the usual things, the Keys, Live firing up Baldy Beacon, etc. We ended the tour with our Company doing a forced march over two and a half days from Oakburn back to Airport Camp. ( About 93 miles if I remember right). Only 5 blokes dropped out, and we all got blisters.

We left in September after 6 months tour and flew back on the old Brittania turbo props via Nassau and Gander, where believe it or not, we had overnight stops and were put up in excellent hotels. The food was great and the booze flowed freely. British Honduras was a place I will never forget as it was very impressionable on a 17 year old who had never been abroad before. I'm sure if any 2nd Battalion Grenadiers read this it will bring back memories. Especially those of us of the New Draft that went on the Sir Galahad.