War is not all misery and suffering. Every unit had its lighter moments and individual histories. This is one of the fearful times for me.
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The Kilt
The kilt, as you may well know, was a great recruiting factor for Highland regiments, and was taken in a very serious vein.
At the beginning of the war in 1939 we were stationed at the exhibition grounds in the Horse Palace. In my B Company there was a small group of self-appointed kilt inspectors. They would stop young soldiers going out for the evening after parade and would issue the order to flip. Which meant you had to raise your kilt and if they found anything between your kilt and skin you were promptly dragged kicking and pleading to the wash trough where you had your (you know what) promptly anointed with ice cold water. Unfortunately this ritual got out of hand and in a few cases where water was replaced with black shoe polish, causing the MO to issue an order CEASE, as there were a number of chemical irritations occurring. Undoubtedly causing an irritation in their love life.
Every night I went out for the evening I lived in holy fear of this sadistic group, as I was one of the culprits that did not abide by Scottish tradition. With the quick arrival of the new battle dress I was spared this sadistic ritual.